Not Nancy, Just Sammy
by MikaelaLovesMusic
Summary: It's Junior year, and Sammy's been framed for murder. Heather's out of juvie, and wants to kill Sammy. Now, Sammy, Marissa, Casey and Billy are in a wild chase across the country. Sequel to my other story, Inevitable, but they're not very connected. Cammy
1. Marissa and Her Spazzyness

**Ok, this story is the sequel to my other story, Inevitable, but I don't really think that you have to read that story to read this one. They are a little connected, but not as much as a regular sequel should be. But just to clear things up, Heather's finishing her time in juvie. Her sentence allowed her to go to school regularly, so she and Sammy have been harassing each other the whole time until the beginning of Junior year, which is what Sammy is in right now. Sammy and Casey (Casey's a senior in this story) are dating, and so are Marissa and Billy. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sammy Keyes or the characters in this story. **

I've been called a lot of things in my life. Mainly, they're nicknames like Sams and "troublemaker". Actually, I've been called "troublemaker" a little over a hundred times, 21 times by Holly, 32 times by Dot, 74 times by Marissa and the rest of the times by various others. I've also been called a lot of one-syllable cuss words. You know what these are- I really don't have to mention them out loud. I've mostly been called this by big, fat thugs who are either a.) chasing me with a large weapon of some sort, or b.) attached by my own hands somehow to a stationary object, or c.) being dragged away in handcuffs by police officers, or d.) attached to a stationary object while being dragged away in handcuffs by police officers.

I've also been called something that I _always _hate being called, and that's Nancy Drew.

It's mainly teachers and Hudson and Grams who call me this. You know, old people. But that doesn't change the fact that it really ticks me off sometimes.

I'm not Nancy. I'm not some perfect, rich Barbie doll who impresses pretty much everyone from New York to Hollywood. I'm just _me,_ Sammy. In fact, most adults hate me mainly because i jaywalk a lot, I always pop up behind them and I ride a skateboard. Oooh, don't ride a skateboard around adults. Adults always think that anyone on a skateboard, regardless of their age, size or gender is always up to no good. I've been kicked out a lot of places just because I have a skateboard.

But back to the subject matter. As I was saying, I'm not like Nancy Drew at all. Adults love her, adults kick me out of restaurants. She's a beauty pageant contestant, I wear hoodies, jeans and high tops. And Nancy got Ned easy enough. _She _didn't have to face his earring-wearing, nail-scratching, freak-of-a-sister.

Ok, so maybe we do both solve mysteries. But I don't even go looking for mysteries, honestly! No matter what it might look like. I'm just trying to get through high school, okay?

And you don't see Bess or George being all spazzy 24/7. I see plenty of that in my Bess-and-sometimes-George, Marissa. Marissa's lately been into contests. She's entered in all of them lately- the McDonald's win free burgers for life (that's super-healthy), Forever 21's "Be True to You!" essay contest, and even Clinique's contest for free non-aging lotion. She what I mean? Total spazzy-ness.

Her newest contest was the raffle was really the worst. She sprung it on me over a phone call.

"SAMMY! SAMMY! SAMMY! Guess what?" she screamed.

"Hmm, another contest? What, did you win free dog turd or something?" I droned monotonously. What? With her latest spazzy-ness, the free dog turd could've been a possiblity. No matter how slight.

She ignored my sacrasm. "I won another contest! We're going to a movie premiere party!"

"Wai wai wait_. We_? As in you and I? You know I don't do dresses and glitter and all of that."

She ignored me again. "I know, isn't it great? It's for that new movie_, _iSpy-"

"-the one about a popular city girl who's "regular girl by day, spy by night"?" I rolled my eyes.

"Yeah, that's it! It's Saturday at 9. I'll pick you up around 7 and you can come to my house to get all glamorous." She squealed.

"Who said I was going?"

"What? No! You _have _to go. You're my best friend!"

"So?"

"So, it says right here to bring your BFF. And you're my BFF, right?"

"Is it to late to take that back?"

"Nope- it's a lifetime comittment. Sorry, Ms. Keyes. Remember, I'll casually drive by the Senior Highrise around 7."

"Wait-!"

I was interrupted by the sound of a dial tone. _Way to say goodbye, _I thought sulkily.

It turned out that the "glamatizing", as Marissa called it, wasn't that bad. I got to wear my high tops and skinny jeans. The only thing was that Marissa forced me to wear a low-cut black tank top that did not do anything but emphasize my lack of "equipment".

"Come on, don't you want to look hot? I heared movie stars are pretty smokin'." She waggled her eyebrows. She was wearing dark-wash skinny jeans and a blue tank top.

"Don't you remember? I have a boyfriend. And so do you." I eyed her. She was faithfull to Billy, but sometimes she got a little over the edge.

She rolled her eyes. "I remember. I just don't think we should be looking like pumpkins at an A-list party."

"We're not going to look like pumpkins! Besides, this is more of a C-list party. The stars are new to the movie biz."

"But TMZ said they're "rising stars"!"

"You read TMZ?" I teased. "I thought you said gossip was sick and "the saddest thing the human race has ever produced"?"

"Shut up and get in the car, Sammy."

I made the mistake of snickering. She kept her face forward and grim for most of the ride to the premiere building.

Eventually, she couldn't hold in her excitement when we finally got there. I actually don't know why they wanted to use Santa Martina as the backdrop for the movie. Santa Martina is the crummiest place _ever _to shoot a movie. It's dirty and there's a lot of traffic and it's full of freaks. But the directors apparently wanted a "rogue, rough city landscape" for their movie, so I guess Santa Martina was sort of the place to shoot it.

The premiere party was supposed to be a "glitzy party night on the rooftop of Santa Martina's hottest buidling". I didn't think the rooftop of the Santa Martina Community College's school of business was that glitzy, but hey! It was the director's choice, not mine.

But there were strobe lights and many other colorful lights leading up to the place. A surprisingly large crowd gathered on the outside. Marissa and I walked in as smoothly as Marissa can be when she's doing the McKenze Dance.

The rooftop turned out to be actually pretty nice. There were odd-shapped lounge chairs everywhere and big, bright lights. Lots of lights. A DJ was in the middle of it all, and a dance floor was also there.

Marissa was mainly taken away by all of the video games around the area. Her eyes were large and bright with excitement.

I, however, was psyched about the little bumper-car arena in the corner. I wasn't old enought to drive (yet), and I sort of freak out whenever I see relatively close to driving.

"Come on! Let's go do the bumper-cars!" I pulled on her arm.

Still in the video game trance, she didn't hear me. "Billy would love this place," she whispered.

"Yeah, he would. Now can we go?"

"Ok, fine. Let's go get your little bumper-cart out of the way. But after, we _have _to go check out the arcade."

We walked past three teenagers about our age as we made our way to the bumper-cars. Two girls and one boy. They stood up like they were far superior, and they wore dark shades over their eyes. A few other teenagers were practically bowing at their feet around them.

The snickered when they saw my attire. "Nice shoes," one of the girls sneered.

"Yeah, where'd you buy them? Wall-mart?" the other girl laughed with the guy. My face grew hot. _Who did they think they were? Royalty? _I thought.

"I told you not to wear those," Marissa hissed under her breath. I wanted to smack their pretty little faces. I loved my high tops, and sometimes I got a little overly defensive.

But Marissa managed to drag me away. "Do you know you they are? That's Sarah Tryst, Liz Bedford and Trey O'Neill!"

"Who?"

"You know, the stars of the movie. Omigod, Liz Bedford made fun of you high tops!"

"I'm sorry, I really don't know them. Nor do I care. Now can we do some bumper-carring?"

She scowled. "Whatever. Be a party pooper."

The lady in the bumper car booth was quite a character. She wore huge red heart earrings, a even bigger orange sparkly gem brooch and at least twenty rings. She lead Marissa to a bumper car, and did the same for me.

I hopped in. I was going to smash into Marissa as much as I could. Payback for the high tops kick.

I managed to get her good. She was fuming. We ended up having a weird bumper-car war in which Marissa was yelping the whole time.

But then, the weirdest thing happened. Little did I know, it would change my life.

I lost control of the bumper car. I felt the car swerve around in circles and zoom.

Towards the exit.

I panicked and tried to unbuckle. But it wouldn't budge. I was trapped. I tried to get a hold of the controls again.

I zoomed out of the arena.

People dove for cover, screaming as the freak in the bumper car continued to zoom through the party. I focused on getting out. If I couldn't stop this thing, then I would fly right off the roof.

Right in my path were three familiar faces. Oh yeah, the "wonderful" stars of the movie. They ran for cover.

My possessed bumper car seemed intent on running into them. It swerved in their direction.

Then, impact. I just hit three of Hollywood's rising stars with a zombie bumper car. They fell down off the roof. I heard two bodies hit the fire escape, but one didn't make it.

Oh, crap.

It turned out, I didn't follow them in my bumper cart. No, my zombie car just decided to stop. _How convenient, _I thought bitterly.

Oh, and guess what else? It also released the seat belts. Great. Again.

Suddenly, I panicked. I possibly just murdered a few people. I was going to juvie, like Heather. They were going to figure out about Grams and she'll have no place to go, and Lady Lana is going to lose her job, her dream-

In the heat of the moment, I didn't know what to do. So I did the only thing I ever did in situations like this.

I ran.

**So it's a weird start. But it will be good, just trust me. I have most of the story planned already. **

**Tell me what you think of the title. Is it too weird? It is a little. If you don't like it, suggest a title, please!**

**Regardless, REVIEW! I need your opinion on how I started it! I need to know how I'm doing!**


	2. I Visit the Tiger Circus of Death

**I acutally just realized that school is starting soon, and since I'm going to be in high school, I won't be able to update as much. So I'll make up for it by updating a lot with the few weeks I have left. **

**Enjoy chapter 2!**

I ran and ran. As fast as I could. I ran down the huge staircase, aware of the security guards who were barreling after me. When I burst out the doors, I was face to face with a small group of paparazzi.

I wanted to scream. This runaway was going to be impossible. I hid my face from the flashing cameras and shoved my way through the crowd of paparazzi and fans.

I managed to break free. But the security guards were still after me. I ducked into an alley shortcut that I knew, and ended up on a thinly populated side street.

I kept on running.

I was so busy looking behind me that I rammed into someone right in front of me. I screamed internally as I felt the arms of the person grabbing my wrists. With as much force as I could manage, I broke free of the grip and sent my fist soaring to the center of the person's face. Then, I did the same to their stomach.

A second person was there. They grabbed my wrists firmly. My hair was all in my face, so I could hardly make out any characteristics of the two people.

Then I heard one of them, the one I sacked, moaning on the ground. "Not again!" He wailed.

Wait a second. I knew that voice. I flipped me head to get the hair out of my face.

"_Billy?_" I turned my head to look at the guy who was grabbing my wrists. "_Casey?_" Geez, what an embarassment I was. Punching one of my best friends and almost punching my boyfriend.

"_Sammy_?" Casey, exclaimed, equally shocked. "What are you wearing? What happened?"

"You know, my nose can only be realigned so many times," Billy muttered under his breath, remembering the time a few years ago when I had given him the same procedure at the mall. He staggered to his feet, pinching his nose to stop the flow of blood.

I turned back to Casey, who was focusing on my wardrobe with a surprised look. Suddenly, I felt horribly self-concious. Oh gosh. Now he's going to see how pencil-y and flat I was. Stupid Marissa and her stupid low-cut tank tops.

But the look on Casey's face wasn't disapproval. The shock wore off and a smile crept onto his face.

I was getting so distracted by Casey. I needed to remember that I was being chased by buff security guards with dark shades and those ear-communication things that they used at places like the White House and Fort Knox.

I managed to blurt out, "I was in a bumper car and then the car got all possessed and bam! Before I knew it I knocked those bratty teenagers right off the roof and I think one of them didn't make it on the balcony and might be dead and now those paparazzi and those security guards want to drag me into Juvie by my toenails and-"

"-hold on a second. Slow down, will ya?" He put his arms on my bare shoulders.

I tried not to get distracted by the warm feeling of his hands on my shoulders as I continued telling my story. "Can we get into your car or something? I just need to get out of here. They're going to find me!"

As if on cue, four or five paparazzi darted towards us, snapping pics. Casey quickly grabbed my hand and took me towards his car.

"What about me? Guys? I'm not holding up very well!" Billy complained through his plugged nose. "Guys?" He chased after us.

I hopped into the passenger seat of Casey's silver Infiniti. Casey took the wheel and Billy climbed in the back, still complaing about his bloody nose and the front seat being "his seat and his seat only".

"Okay, where to?" Casey fired up the engine.

"I don't know!" I exclaimed all panicky. "Just lose them!"

"Um, Casey? I hope your seats are blood-proof, man. This is not pretty," Billy said cautiously. It was a good thing he was being cautious. For some reason guys always got really possessive of their cars.

I turned around and faced my goofiest friend. "I'm really sorry, Billy. Really! I didn't mean too. It was an instinct. I panicked!" Wow. Panic really was the theme of tonight, wasn't it?

"It's cool. I'm used to it." Unfortunately, he was right. This wasn't the first time I had punched him.

Casey's eyes were darting around as he kept an eye on the paparazzi and the other eye on the road. "So tell me again why you're being chased by paparazzi?"

I took a deep breath. "I think I accidently just killed someone."

"How can you accidently kill someone? And why do you accidently kill someone so often?"

"I don't know! It's like the world is out to get me or something. Like 'Hey! Why don't we make this girl's life hard. Just because. Come on. It will be fun!'"

He chuckled. "You're notorious," he simply stated.

"Hey! Where did all of the cars go?" We were pulling into an empty road, towards Sisquane, which was where his house was.

"Let's just say I'm sort of used to helping you get away. I've learned a few tricks."

"Do I really get into trouble that often?"

He laughed and shook his head. "More than you know."

"Hey, you can just drop me off here. I'll walk."

"Are you sure? We're really not that close, you know."

"Nah, it's okay. I don't want them to recognize your car when you go back to the main roads."

He raised his eyebrows. "Okay, if you want to."

"Thanks so much!" I turned to Billy. "And sorry again about the nose bleed thing."

"Hey, Sammy." Casey grabbed my arm before I turned to get out of the car. "Be careful. I mean it."

"I will."

"Promise?"

"Promise. Call me, okay?"

"Will do." He planted a short-but-sweet kiss on my lips and drove off into the night.

So I walked the opposite direction, my senses on full guard. I was a Sneaky Pete tonight.

Absentmindly, I thought of Marissa. I wonder what she was doing right now. Probably freaking out. I turned my phone on. About a million text messages and a trillion voice mails polluted the screen. I would call her later. I needed to put the pieces together and think about how I would escape this sitiuation.

Then, I really thought. I thought about how messed up everything was right now. Those pictures were going to be developed, and my face would light up newspapers from here to China. I needed to run away for a while. But how?

I knew just who to ask. I doubted he would be working at this hour, but it doesn't hurt to check, right?

To my surprise, the front door of the police station was open. As I walked in, I noticed the reception desk was empty.

I still continued through. Right to my buddy Officer Borsch's office.

He was sitting at his desk, looking at some papers. "Sammy?" he asked in a surprised voice.

"In the flesh."

"What are you doing here?"

"Um... this is kind of embarassing, but I was wondering if you could help me. As a friend. Please don't get mad or police-y or anything. I just need advice."

"What is it?"

I took a deep breath. "I was in a bumper car today, at the premiere party for that movie iSpy. The bumper car got a mind of it's own, and I knocked three celebrities off the roof."

His eyes were wide and shocked. For Officer Borsch, shocked eyes really meant something. Either you did something really stupid, or you did something really big. In this case, it was probably both.

"You know, that could give you at the minimum 3 years in juvenile detention."

"I know. I know," I pleaded. "But can you help me? Please? I didn't do anything, but I can't have the police looking into this. Just trust me. Please."

Officer Borsch took a deep breath, his belly bobbing up and down like it was in a bounce house. "Only because you're Sammy. And I know you, and I know you wouldn't do this sort of thing on purpose."

"Thank you!" I said with relief.

"I'm not authorized to say any of this stuff, but let's just talk hypothetically."

I nodded. "Hypothetically. Right."

"Ok, so say I, er, knocked three people off the roof. What I would do is drive up to the Canadian border. But I wouldn't go through Oregon and Washington. Those states are more heavily populated. I would go through Nevada and Montana and all of those states in that region. Then, I would show my face. Have the Canadian police call the American police. They'lll search all of Canada from head to toe, and that will buy you time to settle the whole thing down. You knocked down three celebrities, right? That's pretty bad. They're going to hire a huge team to find you. Fan money and all that. So be careful."

I nodded again. "I will. Thank you. I know how much you're risking by telling me all of this."

"I am. And I'll try to look into this business, okay? Clear your name. You just focus on getting away."

"Thanks so much! Wait a second, not to be rude or anything but why are you even in here so late?"

I saw someone walk in. I froze. A very familiar someone.

Heather Acosta, in her earring-studded, fire-headed glory.

"Officer, here's all of my records," she sing-songed in a voice that was thick and sweet as honey. What a fake. _You're here because of her? _I said with my eyes at Officer Borsch. He nodded slightly to answer my question.

"Hello, Sammy. It's nice to see you! Whatever are you doing here?" she asked, her voice plastic and fakey.

"What are _you _doing here?" I rasped through gritted teeth.

Officer Borsch sent me his _tsk tsk _look. "Now, Samantha, be nice. I was just filing Heather's release from juvenile detention. We're letting her go completely. She's responded quite well to the sentence," Officer Borsch explained.

What was he talking about? Heather still harassed me... of course, she harassed me when no one was looking and...

Oh dear God.

The tiger was getting released from the cage.

This whole time, Heather's got a fakey smile on her face that looks as if it's been plastered on with superglue. "Isn't that great, Sammy?"

"It's. Amazing." I manage to say.

Officer Borsch stood up from his chair. "Wow, it's great that you two are getting along so well. I'll leave you girls to chat while I go file these papers."

And right before my eyes, I've become an innocent spectator plucked from the safe stands of the circus audience and placed right in the center of the tiger's ring.

I could see it in her evil little eyes. _It's Sammy-smashing time!_ she seems to be saying. But then I hear her actual words. And they're not very nice. What did I expect from her? Psh! Was I really supposed to believe that she had changed. Not on this planet, or in this millenium. Yeah, right.

She glares right into my eyes and says, "Nice going, slick. You landed yourself in juvie without any of my help at all. But it's a shame that you're getting away. That's okay. You won't make it very far. Those security guards will scour the world to find you. But I know where you are. And I promise you this: I will get you-"

I sucked in my breath softly as she paused. I tried my hardest not to let my fear show on the outside.

"-and I _will _kill you. That's a promise, Sammy Keyes." She cackled like the witch she was and immediately transformed back into the sickly-sweet phony when Officer Borsch walked back in.

"So, how was the bonding, girls?" He smiled warmly, still falling into the trap Heather had oh-so-carefully set up.

"Great! Real great! Wasn't it Sammy?" Heather grinned her sneaky Cheshire cat grin again.

I wanted to rat her out. Believe me, I did. But I didn't have proof. According to Officer Borsch, she was a "perfect little angel" now.

So I roughed it out and said through my teeth, "It was a blast."

Maybe I could get rid of her early on. She didn't know where I was escaping to, right?

Oh, how badly I wished it were true.


	3. I Become a TV Villian

**Ok, I'm really sorry if you thought the last chapter was really sucky. I wrote that one late at night, so...**

**Anyway, I'm determined to make this one better. We'll see how it turns out.**

Heather was still smiling. Her smile was still fakey and still plastered on with the strongest super glue know to mankind. That is unless, Officer Borsch was to step out of the room. No doubt would that super glue melt into hot wax and she would transform back to her vicious tiger self.

Heather Acosta had grown up noticeably over the past 3 years. Not in character- no way. In stucture. Somewhere during sophomore year, she had gotten, like, a million more piercings- as if the two million she already had weren't enough. The side of her ear was now decorated with tons of different studs- some silver, some red, but most of them were orange. Orange like her hair and orange like a tiger.

She had also become much more of a... a slut. She was always a flirt before, but then when she got older, and she, er, _developed_? That's when she took _everything _to the next level. Clothes got tighter, shorts and skirts got smaller and after a while she was pretty much only wearing enough fabric to clothe one baby. At the most.

She flirted with every one. Anyone who was taken. There was really only reason that I was glad for Heather being Casey's brother, and that was that she couldn't flirt with him. She could, but it would be _really _gross and I probably puke a thousand times. Make that _two_-thousand times.

It turned out, as I had suspected on that summer before 8th grade, that she had flirted with and kissed Danny Urbanski purely to annoy Marissa. And since Marissa and I are practically sisters, if not even _twins_ big ol' Tigerface decided that anything that annoyed Marissa was bound to annoy _me_.

So I'm wasn't that surprised that the day after Marissa started going out with, my possible sister-in-law decided in the spur of the moment to turn her back on Danny for good, and focus on a certain class clown. These days, Marissa hates Heather about as much as I do.

And here Heather was, pretending to be all nicey-nicey and sweet as sugar so she could get out of juvie. What a fake and a creep.

I murmured a "_good night_" to Officer Borsch and sputtered out a grumbly "_'night_" to Heather. I wouldn't give Heather the satisfaction of the "_good" _part. _Bad night, Heather! Bad night! _I felt like screaming.

But I didn't scream. I just walked out into the darkness, still peeking all around to make sure no paparazzi were lingering in bushes or behind cars. No wonder celebrities were so cranky all the time. This paparazzi business was really wearing me out.

I crept up the fire escape and plopped onto the couch. Too tired to change or brush my teeth, I fell asleep.

I woke up in the middle of the night, panting and sweating from a particularly horrible nightmare. I was still being chased by the paparazzi. I kept on running and running, but I couldn't get rid of them. And we weren't even running in the city anymore. No, everything was just black, all black. All except for the bright flashing lights of the paparazzi's cameras. I saw Casey in my peripheral vision, holding his hand out, but when I turned around to take his hand, he would drift farther and farther away until he would disappear completely. Then, it was the big battle scene. It was me against a tiger, who had the strangest face. It was Heather's face. I noticed right away. That, and it had the earring studs and everything. But it wasn't the normal tiger size. No, it was huge. Taller than any building I had ever seen.

Then I woke up.

A faint light was coming from the kitchen window. The sun was starting to get up. I crawled and looked at the time. 5:20. Stupid summer weather and it's stupid early sunrises. I probably wouldn't be able to go to sleep anymore.

Yawning, I grabbed the remote and turned on the TV.

The image that first popped up on the screen made my heart stop and grow cold.

It was me.

I'm wasn't freaked out by my face or anything. It was just so strange to see it on TV.

Then, a voice from the screen.

_Police are still searching for the strange young girl who, last night, knocked young starlets Liz Bedford, Sarah Tryst, and Trey O'Neill off the roof of the Santa Martina Community College School of Business by means of a bumper car. The trio was attending the movie premiere for their big-screen debut, iSpy. Miss Bedford fell completely off the roof and died early this morning at the Georgetown County Hospital.-_

My blood when cold. Died. She died. My body felt like a long chain of dominoes, the first domino knocked over. It wouldn't be long before the whole chain was toppled.

_Miss Tryst and Mister O'Neill landed on a nearby balcony and were rushed to the same hospital immediately. The two are in critical condition. We will report more as the police and the hospital release more information about this tragic incident._

I couldn't move. I was a murderer. Mur-der-rer. I've stopped many murderers before, but never before had I been one. This time, I hadn't even done it on purpose!

A single tear slid down my cheek.

_Meanwhile, the police have searched tirelessly. Fans from all over the U.S. have sent money to organize a professional tracker team to hunt this illusive young murderer down. If you have any information about this girl, please call the number below._

And when I thought things couldn't get worse enough, the image on the screen changed.

It was a picture I knew.

One I knew very well.

Marissa's.

_The girl was seen entering the premises with this young teenager. Her friend's reasons for the murder may have been more obvious than ever: before the deed, witnesses noticed Miss Bedford teasing the suspect about her shoes._

I was nearly in hysterics now.

Another image flashed on the screen.

It was Casey and Billy, facing the camera as they dragged me away.

I couldn't hold the agony back any longer. The tears poured and poured like a storm.

_These young boys were seen escorting the suspect away after she fled the premises. Remember, if you have any information about this girl or the people shown here that she was involved with, please call this toll-free hotline to report._

The TV went to comercials, but I just sat there, dumbfounded, tears pouring down my cheeks like a flood. I slumped forward and turned the TV off.

Somewhere between the tears and horrifed feeling, I came to my senses. I had to protect my friends, my grandmother- everyone.

I quickly got to work, first calling Marissa.

"MARISSA!" I screamed, a little too loudly. I'm sure Grams was already waking up in the room next door.

"Wha... what?" Marissa said groggily. Then she realized it was me. "Sammy! What the heck is wrong with you! I called you, like, seven billion times yesterday! I can't believe you. What were you thinking?-"

"Marissa, I don't have time for your lecture. Please," I begged. "Just turn your TV on."

"Turn my TV on? I'm really beginning to think that you're officially- OH MY GOSH!" she screamed.

"Marissa, don't freak out, I can explain-"

"Why is my face on national television?"

"Mariss-"

"AND WHY IS BILLY'S FACE THERE, TOO?"

"Listen Marissa. Calm down. Call Billy and tell him to meet Casey, you and I on the corner of Broadway and Main. And hurry! Pack some stuff. We have to get out of here."

"What? Sammy! This is crazy! You're crazy! I am not-"

I clicked off and quickly dialed Casey's cell.

"Hello?" his voice was as groggy as Marissa's.

"Casey? It's Sammy. Sorry about the time, but, um, just turn on your TV."

"What? Okay."

I heard a crash and a thump from the other line. "Casey! Casey! Are you okay?"

"Uh..." he said nervously. "Yeah. I just dropped the phone. Sorry."

"Listen, I know you're probably freaking out and I know you probably hate me, but-"

"I don't hate you. I'm just a little shocked, that's all."

"I'm really sorry about this. Can you meet me on the corner of Broadway and Main as soon as possible? Pack some stuff. We have to get out of here. I'm not really sure how, though, seeing as I don't have a car, but..."

"We can take my Infiniti," he suggested.

"No, they already know your car." I wracked my brain in thought.

"I have an idea. I need to call Billy."

"Okay, see you. I'm really sorry, again."

He chuckled for the first time in our conversation. "It's cool. I'll see you in a few."

I hung up, smiling a little to myself. I wasn't worthy of someone as great as Casey.

The hairs on my back prickled ever so slightly. "Samantha," Grams said in a firm tone.

I looked up but didn't say a word.

"What is going on? And why are you crying?"

I wiped my tears. "I'm really sorry, Grams. I need to get out of here." I stood up and walked over to Grams's bureau. Grams followed.

"Samantha, what are you talking about?" I started to shove clothes and toiletries inside my backpack.

"I have to go. Just turn on the TV- you'll get it right away. I'll call you as soon as I can."

Her shoulders tensed. "Samantha, I don't get a single word of what you're saying."

"Please, just trust me. Marissa, Casey and Billy will be with me. I'll explain everything later, but if any police officers come knocking on your door, deny _everything_. Don't tell them anything. Tell them that you had no idea what I was doing. Tell them that you haven't seen me in a while."

"I can't let you do this, Samantha."

I put my hand on her shoulder and looked through her glasses into her eyes. "Please, Grams. Just trust me," I repeated. "I'll be okay- you raised me well. Plus, I've been in this type of thing before, right?" I said, trying to keep my voice confident but it just came out shaky and uneven.

She took a deep breath. "You are old enough. I should be able to let you do this. Just be safe, please. I would roll over into my grave if anything happened to you."

I smiled slightly. "I can't let that happen, now can I? I'll be back." I gave her a hug, tears dripping onto her nightie. I heard her crying softly. I wanted to stay with her and keep her safe, but I knew that staying with her would only do the opposite.

I swung my backpack on my back, grabbed my skateboard from under the couch and crept down the fire escape. I took one glance back at the Senior Highrise, wondering if I would ever see it again.

Casey, Billy and Marissa were already on the corner of Broadway and Main, like I asked them to. But they were inside of a mini-van, a brown Honda Oddessy.

I opened the door to see Billy in the front seat, Casey in the passenger's seat and Marissa in the back. Marissa had a huge luggage beside her. Typical. Even with 5 minutes of packing time, Marissa had managed to bring every single one of her belongings. Billy and Casey had both brought their backpacks.

"Awesome car! Who's is this?"

"Mine, of course," Billy winked. "Meet Mr. Rolling Turd the third."

"Um... why the third?"

"I totaled one and two."

Casey and Marissa were both silent, and so was I. All of our eyes were wide.

Casey was the first to break the silence. "Heeyy... do you want _me_ to drive?"

"Yes!" Marissa and I blurted at the same time.

Billy pouted a little bit, but eventually the two boys switched seats.

"Hey check this out. Go around and look at the license plate," Billy said excitedly.

"It's so cool!" Marissa exclaimed, nodding.

I hopped out and looked at the back. The license plate was L2D145S.

And then it changed.

Just like that, it went from being L2D145S to V921CFD. How cool was that? This was the perfect car.

Then, out of nowhere, a rock or something small and hard clinked my back. I turned around, totally freaked out.

It was Heather.

"Hey, loser. Going somewhere?"

**The next chapter will be up soon! Review!**


	4. The Runaway Gang

Heather was slowly approaching, like a tiger zooming in for the kill. I tried to look like an animal that killed tigers. What _was _an animal that killed tigers? Wait, does anything even kill tigers? Well, humans do, but do I really want to look like a human?

I probably looked pretty stupid and weak to her, because she advanced much more quickly. Then, suddenly, two people appeared to flank her.

My eyes bulged out of their sockets. Of course. Of course. Derek and Gwen Sheffield were getting out of jail along with her. Three years ago, I caught Gwen Sheffield (who was a junior, too) and Derek Sheffield (her older brother who _should've_ been a college student, but ended up in jail) selling illegal joints of marijuana. And, it wasn't your typical woozy-oooh, pretty colors! type marijuana. No, this marijuana made you strong and tough. That's kind of how I ended up in the hospital twice in three days. **(a/n: This is what happened in my last story, Inevitable)**

So they were out. More tigers to add to the clan. Gwen was even more slut-ish than Heather, if you can believe that. She wore enough clothing to clothe a _newborn _baby. She wore twenty pounds of jewelery, too. Black chains on her neck, huge purple earring studs, a bracelet chain with huge orange gems. Even her headband was studded with a rainbow of colors. I swear, the makeup she was wearing added another pound to her total body weight. She was wearing so much makeup that I wasn't even sure if that was her real face anymore.

Derek had muscles, and wasn't afraid to show them. They bulged from underneath a plain white t-shirt and he had a gazillion tattoos of random stuff: motorcycles, flames of fire, that mom-in-a-heart one that most biker guys seem to have on these days, and a tiger. Just to be ironic. He didn't wear any chains around his neck or anything, but he wore rings. Man, the boy liked rings. They were black and intricate and mostly had skulls on them. He had an orange one set in a thick black band. Halloween colors- and this boy was definitely scary enough for it.

Despite the Sheffield's rough-and-ready jailbird look, Heather was still the scariest of them all. I had two choices: go back to the car or face Heather. The second choice could be dangerous and potentially fatal, but the first choice showed weakness. I couldn't let that happen.

So I picked the second choice.

I smiled sweetly and said, "What happened to the _nice _Heather? Did she disappear? Oh, and did she take the limited brains you have left with her?"

Heather snarled. And then, without warning, she ran up to me and grabbed onto my sweatshirt. Before she grabbed onto me, I managed to bang and bang on the car. I heard Marissa turn around and scream "Sammy! Sammy! What the heck is going on there?". She started to bang on the car windows and scream some more.

So, here I am, fighting Heather off and slooowly trying to creep over to the side door so I can hop in. The engine grunts to life, and I hear Casey screaming out to me from the side window, "Sammy! Get in! The door's open!"

"I'm trying! She just won't get off!" I tried to kick, shove, everything, but she's still grabbing onto me and trying to squeeze me to death or something. Then Derek, who had just been watching on the sidelines with Gwen, tossed Heather something. And then, I started freaking out for real.

Because what Heather has in her hands now is something she can actually hurt me with, and it's a pocketknife.

Thankfully, she was a little occupied when she caught it and flipped it out, so she loosened her death-grip a wee bit. I took of towards the door, Heather still hanging onto me. Apparently, she's got the pocketknife open because I feel a sharp pain on my forearm. It hurts. A lot. It burns like stinging nettle, and I yelp a little bit in pain.

But my other arm's free and ready to rumble. So I thwack her as hard across the face and she stumbles back. After cursing a dictionary full of cuss words, Miss Pocketknife Wielder Supreme decides that she's not finished with me and runs up to the door. I manage to hop in and scream to Casey to close it from the driver's wheel. He does, but man, that thing closes awfully slow. I want to slam it closed, but it's automatic. Miss Pocketknife Wielder Supreme finally sticks arm through the door with the knife and manages to slash me one last time in the same arm. My arm is on fire now. She pulls her arm away, but she's so off-balance that she doesn't realize that she's left something in the car.

Her hair.

It's just a little portion of her hair, but I scream anyway. And Marissa sees this too, and screams even louder. The door is closed, her hair's still caught in there, and what are we going to do? Open the door and let her relieve herself? I knew the door wouldn't go closed again until it opened completely, And who knew how long _that _would take? Long enough for her to cut me a few more times, probably.

But we couldn't just rip an eighth of her hair off! She _was _my archenemy, but that kind of thing was kind of cruel. Even for your archenemy.

So I say to Casey, "Gas it! But slooowly." He drives slowly and once Heather realizes that her hair's caught there, she screams more cuss words and cuts the hair off with a knife, salvaging as much hair as she could. Once she's free I scream, "Casey! Go! Go!" because I know that Miss Pocketknife Wielder Supreme will probably try to hurt the _car _if she can't hurt _me_.

Casey slams his foot down and we speed off.

I slump on the seat, completely exhausted. After a few moments of huffing and puffing, my attention travels back to my left arm. It was still stinging like crazy. I manage to roll up my sleeve and there it is: one long red drippy cut and a smaller one next to it.

"Sammy! Ohmygosh are you okay?" She holds my hand gently and examines it carefully. You see, just last year, I got in the hospital again. Nasty criminal confronation. But that's not the point. The point is, Marissa was there and she saw all of the hospital and then she got really intrested. She decided that she wanted to be a doctor. That's why almost every week she made trips there and got mentored by her idol, Dr. Lacey Johnston.

It really helps to have someone who's into first-aid around. Especially with people like Billy and I. I think that may have been the real reason why she was so interested in medicine: Billy was accident-prone and needed a nurse 24/7. Same with me, but mainly I need a nurse 12/5.

She pulls out a first-aid kit (of course she would have one) and starts treating my arm. She starts putting some weird gels and liquids on it, and that seems to intensify the pain.

"Um, Marissa? Are you sure you know what you're doing? Because those gel things you keep putting on make it _really _hurt."

"I know, I'm sorry. But it has to hurt more first so it can get better faster and healthier."

By now, my arm's all bandaged up. Billy's checking out the rear view mirror while Casey's speeding through traffic.

"Uh, oh. This cannot be good," Billy mutters.

"What? What cannot be good?" I exclaim in alarm.

"Tweedledee and tweedledum and the head honcho are in the car behind us," he said.

"Oh, crap. Casey, can you get rid of them?"

He makes a sharp turn. "Already on it." Then, he makes another sharp turn and I fall off the seat onto my tush. "Sorry! I didn't mean to do that!" Casey said.

I hop back onto the seat and buckle up like I'm supposed to. "It's okay. Thanks for getting me out of there."

"Thanks? Why are you saying thanks? You're arm got sliced!"

I sighed. "That was my fault. I got too cocky. All of this is my fault. I feel so bad for getting you all into this."

Casey was the first to speak up. "Sammy, even if I wasn't part of this, I would still be here, escaping with you. We'll find a way out of this."

Billy went next. "I'm totally cool with this. It's like an adventure. You know, like Indiana Jones! I just need a whip and-"

"Uhh..." I said slowly. "I don't think a whip's the best idea."

"Okay, that's okay... oh I know!" He pulls a fruit roll-up out of the glove compartment and starts hitting it everywhere- his backpack, Casey's backpack, Casey's face-

"Stop it, man! I'm trying to drive!" Casey frowned. He takes one hand off the wheel, rips half of Billy's fruit roll-up off and shoves it into his mouth. Mouthfull of fruit roll-up, he punches Billy lightlly in the arm, grinning.

"Dude! Not cool!" Billy says, but he rips the fruit roll-up into thirds and gives Marissa and I each a piece and shoves the last one into his mouth.

"Wow, I can't believe you guys are so cool with all of this. So you really don't have a problem?" I ask cautiously.

"Nah." Casey shrugs.

"No way, man, this is awesome stuff!" Billy pulls some Fritos out of the glove compartment and starts throwing Fritos into his and Casey's mouth. They managed to catch each one with surprising accuracy.

I look at Marissa. She sulking, hands crossed over her chest. "Well, _I'm _not so sure about this. This is really dangerous, Sammy. Our first seconds on the road, you get _these_-" she points to my bandaged arm. "cuts! Who knows what else could happen?"

"I'm really sorry, Marissa. But there's nothing else we can do."

"Hmph." She crosses her arms again.

"Come on Marissa! Want a Frito?" Billy throws one at her, but it bounces off her face. "Don't be a grumpypants, Marissa."

She snickers a little. "Grumpypants?"

"It got you to laugh, didn't it?"

She sighed lightly. "Throw me one of those Fritos, will ya?" I smiled. Marissa doesn't stay mad around Billy very easily.

"Casey, is Miss Pocketknife Wielder Supreme still following us?" I asked.

"Woah. She cut you with a _pocketknife_? I thought she cut you with her nails. Ouch."

"It's fine. It doesn't hurt," I lied.

He took a breath of relief. "Good. And to answer your question, Miss Pockeknife Wielder Supreme is not following us anymore. I got rid of her a few blocks ago."

"Wow. You really should be in those spy movies or something, Case."

He grinned. "I try."

My phone started to vibrate. Holly. "Hello?" I answered.

"Sammy? Where are you? Are you okay?" she breathed in a frantic-y voice.

"I am. I'm on a runaway train."

"Oh my gosh, Sammy, be careful! Those things are really bad, especially if you jump onto them into a cart full of potatoes, which, are not as soft as you might think-"

Holly used to be a runaway, too. So you can see where all of this frantic-ness came from. "Relax, Holly, I'm not on a train. I'm here with Casey and Billy and Marissa."

"Oh yeah, their names were on the news, too! Well I'm glad you're okay. Well, as okay as you can be when you'e running from the law. By the way, did you really do that? On purpose? I didn't think you did- I'm just asking because the news made it seem like you were some juvenile serial killer."

"I didn't! I swear! It was all a big accident! A mistake!"

"Oh, really? Everyone here in Santa Martina's going to think that you're a crimnal!"

"I know! Could you maybe... subdue them or something? And tell Dot what I told you. I don't want her freaking out."

"Acutally Dot's here at my house. She's in the bathroom. I was checking online when I saw your face. I got so freaked out. I called you right away. Oh, here she is right now." She called out to Dot, "Come here, read this. I'm on the phone with Sammy."

Then Dot blurts out "Oh my gosh! Sammy!"

I'm about to repeat the story to her, but then Casey asks me, "Where are we going? Could you help me with directions?"

I nod a little bit, then say into the phone, "Gotta go guys. The pilot needs directions."

I close the phone shut, then tell Casey about Borschman's master plan.

And off to Canada we go.

**'Hope you all liked it! If you liked it, review! If you hated it, review! If you're in between- REVIEW! I enjoy your comments and they help me write this story!**


	5. Creepy Gas Stations and Creepy Men

**Well, it looks like I'm going to be updating a lot because my guitar's in for repair, half of my friends have all gone on vacation and to summer camp, and their re-tarring our roads outside. So I'm stuck in here for a day with nothing but my piano and my computer. **

**But that's a good thing, for you guys anyway. Anyhoo, enjoy the next chapter!**

"Throw another one, Billy!" I giggled as he threw another Frito into my mouth. Score! I haven't been able to catch many of them so far, so this was big. Somehow, Casey and Billy were, like, experts at this thing. I guess this the kind of thing guys do in their spare time.

I smiled truly for the first time the whole day. This wouldn't be as bad as I thought it would be. Heather was gone and it was just like four friends chilling in the car. Chilling in Mr. Rolling Turd the Third.

After a few hours of driving, it was obvious Casey was tired and wiped out. We hadn't stopped the whole time, and getting antsy at the wheel. He squeezed the wheel, then unsqueezed it, then kept on tapping his legs at the stop signs.

I didn't know what to do. I couldn't drive, obviously. I wasn't even old enough for my permit. Marissa was one of the oldies in our class, so she could. Besides, with Lady Lana's hare-brainness, who knew how old I really was?

"Hey, Casey? Do you want to take a break? You know, have someone else drive?" I glanced at Marissa.

"Nu-uh. I'm _not _driving. I can drive from the Senior Highrise to East Jasmine Street perfectly well, but I can't drive from Santa Martina to who knows where you're taking us, Sammy," she defended. "Besides, Billy can drive. He can drive perfectly well!" she smiled hopefully.

Casey and I glanced at each other nervously. Billy had already totalled the first two generations of the Rolling Turds, and he could easily total the third.

Marissa sensed this and piped up, "Besides, aren't you all _hungry_? I know I am!"

I paid attention to my stomach. Yep, it was panging. Casey nodded in agreement and Billy shouted out, "I want food!"

"Wait a second. There's only one problem. Our _faces _our on the TV screen of every household and business alike!" Casey pointed out.

"It's early. No one cares, no one's seen the news yet," I said.

"Yeah, but what if they _have_? We could be in serious trouble!" Marissa exclaimed worriedly.

"Well, here's a gas station. It's in the middle of nowhere, so maybe we'll get lucky. Let's just go. My stomach really isn't that happy with me right now," Casey said.

We all nodded our heads in agreement. I knew I wasn't the only one who felt like they were running on empty.

The gas station was mostly empty, like Casey predicted. The little store they had there was really musty and there were bars on the windows.

I saw Marissa's eyes widen in horror as a creepy-looking guy went inside. "Hey... I'll just stay here... with the car... and our stuff. I'll fill up the tank, okay, Casey?" she said.

Casey shrugged. "Okay, then." He laced his fingers with mine. I swear, the tips of my fingers instantly flamed a few degrees warmer. His hand travelled up and lightly grazed the bandages on my arm. "Crazy sister," he muttered.

Out of pure impulse, I leaned over and kissed his lips lightly. "I'm the crazy one, remember?" I half-smiled.

He smiled back. "That I do. You're probably the most dangerous one of all," he whispered, rubbing his fingers around mine.

"True dat. Now let's go get some food- I've been swallowing my saliva for the past hour and trust me, it does not taste good."

He laughed and we walked into the store.

I guess the creepy guy Marissa had seen walk in wasn't the the only one of his type who regularly visited this gas station. As we entered, I saw an even creepier, buff guy with tattoos all over his arm and a shiny bald head walk towards us holding his grocery bag. He looked at me with red eyes and licked his lips, surveying me.

I cringed with disgust. Casey squeezed my hand tighter sort of shifted his body in front of me and Creep-o-Mania. Creep-o-Mania growled a little bit, but he pushed past me and left the store.

That was an absolute horrifying experience, but I was really touched that Casey was so protective. How sweet was he?

We ran up and down the isles, chosing random snacks that looked delicious but were not the healthiest. Hey- there were not adults around to tell us to eat our veggies!

By the time we were finished, we had a nice assortment of goodies. We met up with Billy, who had already filled up a shopping basket with tons of chips, candy and sodas. Oh, and Fritos.

"You got all of _that_?" I asked incrudelously.

"I'm a hungry man!" Billy said, patting his stomach. "Besides, I have a lot of money." He leaned forward and whispered, "My mom thinks she's so clever by keeping her money in a safe, but how clever can you be when your combination is 1234?" He paused. "Oops! Now you have the combo. Whatever! My mom deserves it- she didn't let me get ice cream at the mall yesterday!" I knew he was joking. Billy was always joking. Actually, his mom was way worse than that. The one time I met her, she yelled "Git out of my house!" and threw the lasagna she just made at me. It was good lasagna, but it would've been nice if I had eaten it on a plate.

We walked up to the register and paid for our stuff. My eyes wandered over to the newstand and-

I froze.

My face was on the cover, and so were Casey's, Billy's and Marissa's. I nudged Casey a little bit and pointed to the newstand.

His eyes widened. "Oh, shiii... iz. This is not good." He tapped Billy lightly. "Billy," he hissed. "We have to go!"

Billy paid the man and said "Much obliged, kind sir." And he started to follow us out.

"Hey!" the man behind the counter yelled. "You forgot your change!"

"Keep it!" Billy blurted. We walked faster.

"Hold it right there!" the man yelled louder. "I know who you kids are! You're on this newspaper!"

"No we're not!" Billy stammered and we ran out.

We escaped... just to be caught again.

"There they are!" Creep-o-Mania shouted and pointed at us. "Those are the kids from the news!" He was followed by three police officers. The two younger ones looked a little frightened. One had these huge eyes that were opened so wide they looked kind of possessed. The other had a brown wig that looked so not attached to his head. They both looked so frightened. It was probably their first day on the job or something. But the older one? He looked seasoned, but he looked rough. He had huge muscles and a frown that seemed permanantely plastered onto his face.

"Hold it right there, kids!" Muscles belted. Then, the cashier comes out and says into my back, "Finally. Kids these days get punished." He was even worse than T.J. at Maynard's Market.

So we're trapped- from the front and the back.

But then, Mr. Rolling Turd the Third comes flying outta nowhere. Marissa's at the wheel, alright, but the look on her face is absolutely terrified. She slows down when she gets to the police officers, who have turned around and were holding their hands out like stop signs. As if their hands could stop the car all by themselves. Marissa opens the door from the front. "Get in, get in!" she yelps, still in the shaky terrified voice.

The police officers see that she's not moving, and then slowly back away, still trying to restrain us. But then, Billy whips out his huge grocery bag full of snacks and hits them one by one. He saves the cashier for last and says "Yeah!" in victory. We run to the car and Marissa screams as she accidently pushes the button that closes the door. So we're barely making it, Billy slips in, Casey slips in, and-

The door closes.

Marissa's screaming apology, but they I say "Unlock the trunk!" and she shivers a little and nods.

The police officer goons are starting to get up. Muscles pops up first, and he runs towards me as I struggle to get to the trunk. Then Crazy Eyes, Wig Man and Creep-o-mania are up, too and they follow. I open the humongous trunk and barely get a foot in when the car starts to move. Slowly, but it's still moving. And I'm screaming "Marissa! Slow down!" and Casey's holding his hand out over the seat. Marissa's still freaking out and she's _not _slowing down. I grab Casey's hand, but my body is still not completely in. My toe's being dragged by the car and the police officers are trying to pull me off the car.

Casey groans as he plays the game of tug-of-war, me as the rope. The police officers don't have a good grip, but they're trying.

"Sorry about this Case, but-" I kick out my foot, and Casey let's out a little "Augh!" in pain. But I've knocked Muslces, Crazy Eyes and Wig Man out, so I jump off the car, which is still moving (thanks to Marissa).

I don't know how, but somehow I managed to touch the handle that closes the trunk and hop in at the same time. Then, Marissa took off and I laid down in the trunk. Casey was right above me, rubbing his burning arm.

"Are you okay?" Casey asked with concern.

I let out a few huffs and puffs and say, "Let's never do that again, okay?"


	6. Driving Issues

**I just found out that I'm freakishly close to Sammy Keyes. Not even kidding. It says she lives in Santa Martina, which is an obvious play on Santa Maria. And then there's Sisquane, which is where Casey lives and I think that's referring to Sisquoc. I'm gonna guess and say that Santa Luisa is San Luis Obispo? But anyway, it totally fits. I've been down there a few times, and it's just a four hour drive if you're fast from San Francisco, which is where I live. So I could just drive down there and find Sammy and be like "Hey, how's it hanging?" :)**

Casey's right arm was still aching playing tug-o-war with the cops, but he managed to use his left to help me out of the trunk and into the car. Marissa was fighting with Billy about the right roads to take. Geez, that couple was like a roller-coaster ride. I wouldn't be surprised if they were making out in the next five minutes.

"How's your arm?" I touched it lightly.

"It's fine," he said, but I could tell he was lying. "But it would be better if you... if you..."

"Kissed it and made it better?" I teased.

He just sent me a grin that sent warmth up my spine. I kissed his arm lightly and patted it off for good measure.

"Wait a second, I think my lip is hurting, too, _ouch! _Yep, it's definitely swollen or something." He smiled hopefully.

"Well, we could always put some ice on it, or get some of those medicinal gels that Marissa loves so much-"

"Hey!"

"I'm just kidding. Come here." I pressed my lips against his, my chest floating further and further away with each passing second. I sighed a little bit when we pulled apart.

"CASEY! I need your help! And stop distracting him, Sammy!" Marissa exclaimed shrilly.

"The pilot calls," he whispered and made his way up to the front. I sat down in one of the seats and ripped open a package of gummy worms. Yum.

"Okay, Billy says we need to hop on the freeway here, but I say we wait a few more miles. I'm right, aren't I?" She looked up at Casey hopefully.

"Well, actually, we need to get on the freeway-"

Marissa jumped in her seat. "Yes! I'm right! Ha! In your face, Pratt!"

"Wait! Marissa! We were _supposed_ to get on the freeway ten miles ago!"

Then it was Billy's turn. "In _your_ face, McKenze!" Marissa crossed her arms and threw a Frito that was on the dashboard at Billy's face. Billy expertly caught it in his mouth swallowed it.

_Honk! _A huge Safeway truck swerved quickly out of our way. That monster was _huge, _and I swear, if it hadn't gotten out of our way this time, we would have yet another funeral for the third generation of the Rolling Turds. Oh, and for the three of us.

"Marissa!" I scolded. "Honestly, how did you get your driver's license?"

She giggled nervously. "Well, funny you should ask, but the guy who was testing me was easily persuaded and-"

"You _bribed_ him?" I blurted. I threw my hands up in the air, just like Grams. "We're doomed. We're not just doomed, we're dead. If a car doesn't crush us to smithereens first, then Heather will. And if _Heather _doesn't crush us to smithereens, then the tracker team will. We're doomed."

"Wait a second. You're forgetting about _me_! I have a driver's license, too!" Billy defended, shoving his card in my face.

Casey looked at me apprehensively, and then back at Billy. "Dude, you totalled two cars already."

"Yeah, but that was because Jared Randall dared me to! And the second time, I was chasing this pizza delivery truck because they didn't give me a drink and then I got distracted by those pretty banners that they attach to those planes, and obviously that didn't turn out all that great." He shrugged. "I just haven't had very good luck."

"Yeah, that and you get _distracted_!" Casey exclaimed. And, just to prove his point, Billy was twirling a ring pop around his finger and trying to catch it with his tongue.

"What? I don't get distracted!" But it came out more like a _Waah? I onn ehhh Ihsaateehh _because he was still sticking his red-stained tongue out to try and catch the illusive ring pop.

"I'm sorry, Casey, but do you mind driving again?" I asked.

"I'd rather _not,_" He glanced down like his shoes were suddenly the most interesting things in the world. "But if it's going to save our lives, them I'm all for it," he finished.

"Wait, man! Just let me try! I promise! I won't kill anybody, I promise!" Billy protested, finally stopping his game of Catch-The-Ring-Pop.

"Oh, you won't _kill_ anybody!"

"Ok, I won't total the car or get us in an accident. Just let me drive!"

"Promise?"

"Promise."

Casey shrugged a little. "Okay, then. We'll stop at the next exit."

Marissa breathed a sigh of relief. "It's all yours. Have fun driving, Billy," she taunted. "It's a real treat."

And just like that they started kissing. I don't know if they had some secret sign or _something_, but it was all so random. But suddenly I had a good reason to stop looking at the two lip-lockers in front and more at the road. It was probably because another truck was making a turn and about to crush us to smithereens-

In a miraculous spur-of-the-moment decision, I lept forward and turned the wheel right. It was the most uncomfortable position ever, leaning over a now yelping Marissa and getting us off the freeway.

"Okay, I think it's time to change drivers," I suggested shakily, still a little tramatized by all of the near-death experiences we've faced in the last ten minutes.

Casey nodded along with me.

"Woah, how did you do that! It was like you were a ninja- _pow_!" Billy yelled, slamming the dashboard with his staightened hands.

In between Marissa scolding Billy for "distracting her for the umpteenth time" and Billy karate-chopping the dashboard, I heard Casey mutter "It's like crawling into your grave."

Somehow, probably through some cosmic force of some sort, we managed to pull into a McDonald's parking lot. Billy and Marissa changed seats, and we got back on the freeway. Back to our impending doom.

Casey took my hand for good luck. I squeezed his in reply.

"Here we go," I moaned.

But just like everything else about Billy, he surprised me. He rode smoothly, and hardly took his eyes off the road except to catch some more Fritos from Marissa.

"Wait, you _didn't_ bribe the driver's license tester, did you Billy?" I asked suspciously.

"Surprised? I am too. But to answer your question, no I didn't. This is aaall me." Billy was practically grinning from ear to ear.

I laid back for the first time since we left the gas station. I felt my eyes drooping slowly, slowly- wait eyelids- hold it there! Stay... open. I was fighting a losing battle though,

My eyes fluttered closed.

When I woke up, the sky was a little darker. I opened my eyes sleepily and became aware to the fact that my head was on Casey's shoulder. He had nodded off, too. Then I remembered.

Drool.

I felt my cheek. It was speckled with saliva, and I wiped it quickly so the embarassment wouldn't set in. I inspected Casey's shoulder for drool, but it was dry as desert. I laid my head back in relief. The first time I had drooled on Casey was three years ago, and it was one of the most horrifying experiences of my life. It was on his leg.

I try not to think about the other drooling experiences that came after. Those were easy to forget. But that one? It was latched in my mind no matter how hard I tried to banish it forever.

"Good morning, sleeping beauty," Casey singsonged. I was so busy worrying about drool that I hadn't noticed he had woken up.

"Finally, you guys are awake! It was horrible when you guys fell asleep. Then this lady right here," He pointed his chin towards a sleeping Marissa, "fell asleep, too. Then there was no one to throw me Fritos anymore!" he whined.

"Oh, you poor thing!" I said, throwing a Frito at him. He pretended to be a dog and clomped it in his mouth.

"Do you want to switch now, man? Where are we even-"

His voice broke off to the sight that was above him.

It said _Welcome to Fabulous Las Vegas_.

"Las Vegas? We're in Las Vegas? Do you know how off-course that is?" Casey asked.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! But these signs said 'Win a million dollars- for free!' and they kept on leading me and leading me towards this place and I kept getting distracted because who doesn't want a million dollars?" He smiled hopefully.

"Aw, man. Billy? Really? Why do you have to be so damn, er, I mean dang," he corrected, looking at me. I rolled my eyes. Classic Casey, trying not to expose me to the bad words that I've had yelled at me for four years now. "-distracted all the time?" Casey finished.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I took you this far, didn't I?"

"Ok, you did. I'll give you that. I think we should stop here, anyway. It's getting late."

Marissa opened her eyes warily, taking in her surroundings. "OH MY GOSH! WHAT ARE WE DOING HERE?" she shouted a little too loudly, recognizing the place that had corrupted her dad a few years ago. They were okay now, but Marissa still feared and hated this place.

"Blame Billy," I rolled my eyes, to which Billy replied "Hey!"

"We're going to stop here, anyway," Casey added.

Billy pulled into an empty lot and we stepped out to stretch our legs. "Let's have some grub," he announced.

Marissa took her loaded wallet out of the car. "Let's go," she grumbled. "I know a place."

Las Vegas had lights. Lot's of them. It was dark outside, but the city itself seemed to be its _own _light. We followed Marissa through a few blocks. She lead us to the front of a cozy Italian restaurant with bright neon lights. But instead of going through the front door, she took us through the back- through an alley.

"Stay back here," she instructed, knocking on the back door. "Sergio!" she yelled. "Get out here!"

A heavy set Italian man stepped out. He sure looked full of spaghetti- his stomach was round and bulging. He wore a white buttoned chef's shirt, and even a chef's hat on top of his balding head. "Marissa!" he exclaimed in a heavy Italian accent. "You've been a very bad girl lately, si?"

She sighed, her eyes darting to me for a millisecond. "It's been a misunderstanding. Really. You trust me, right?"

"Of course I do, Bella Marissa."

"Okay, guys, get out here." She motioned to us. Sergio's eyes widened noticeably.

"Guys, this is Sergio Ilario. Sergio, this is guys. And Sammy."

He raised his eyebrows.

"Okay, fine. This is Sammy, Billy and Casey," she explained, pointing to each of us as she said our names.

"Marissa, you know I love both you and your family, but I do read the news and I know that you and your friends," he pointed his eyebrows towards us in such a contortion I promised myself I would try and learn how to do it later- "have been up to no good."

Marissa sighed again, not bothering to discreetly look at me. "Like I said, it's been a misunderstanding. We'll get it all cleared up, I promise. We just need a place to eat. That's it. After that, it will be like you never saw us. And I can pay you..." Marissa tapped her wallet. Man. That girl wouldn't stop with the bribing, would she?

"Eh? Why not? Come inside, kids," he said, motioning towards the door. There was something about Sergio that I just loved. He was just so nice and... fatherly. I didn't really have experience with that sort of thing, but it felt nice to have something relatively close.

I laced my fingers with Casey's and stepped in. I was immediately bombarded with the smell of steamy tomato sauce. It smelled heavenly. I closed my eyes for more effect.

"You like tomatoes and carbs, _bambini_?" Sergio asked in that wonderfull Italian accent of his. He seated us at a table right next to the kitchen. Right next to the tomato sauce. I breathed in again. Delicious.

All four of us nodded our heads eagerly like starving puppies. So I wasn't the only one who was salivating.

Sergio served us an amazing and hearty meal of garlic bread, mozerella sticks, and spaghetti with the biggest meatball I ever saw. It was even bigger than my fist!

Then came the gelato. Everything was so... scrumptous. I loved this place!

Marissa ended up dishing out a lot of green, but she didn't seem to mind. She just asked for seconds.

We walked back to the car totally filled up and giddy.

I should've known that the giddy feeling wouldn't last long.

Because when I opened the door, my full stomach sank into knots.

Because there was Heather, lounging on my seat, staring into my eyes with a look that could kill.

Literally.

**I hope y'all liked that chapter! I worked especially hard on it into the wee hours. **

**Have you ever noticed how in the books, Casey tries really hard not to swear in front of Sammy? I think it's the cutest thing ever. What do you guys think?**


	7. Us Versus The Nightmare Squad

The tiger. In our car.

Eating our chips.

This was the last straw.

"Hello, loser. Missed me?" Heather smiled with innocency as fake as artificial turf.

"Not in this lifetime. Or the next," I growled, my nostrils flaring. How did she get here? I thought the hair mess would've scared her away for good. Maybe I _should _have let the car door rip her hair off.

"Aw. Don't be so crabby on our reunion. Besides, there's some people I want you to meet. Wonderful, wonderful people," she sang in her plaster voice.

I glared at her, to which she responded by looking into my eyes as well. So. This would be a staredown. I held my gaze, and so did she.

My eyes started to burn. But I couldn't let her win, even if it was something as simple as a staredown.

My eyes started to get watery, but any tears away with my determination to beat her sorry bottle redhead.

Crap, crap, crap! I was losing. "Heather! HEATHER!" Casey yelled, coming to my rescue. Heather blinked in alarm. _Ha!_ I thought, relieving my burning eyes.

"What are you doing here?" Casey asked, his voice stern and commanding of his younger sister.

"Oh, Casey. Dear brother. I just wanted to introduce you all to my friends," she said.

"Just. Leave," Casey ordered.

Heather just laughed. The evil within was starting to ooze out behind her ridiculous "nicey-nice" facade.

"You all know Derek and Gwen. Good friends of mine. But I would like to introduce you to three of my other friends," Tigerface said, her tone getting less bright and more and more evil.

"We don't want to see your friends, Heather! Just go back to Juvie where you came from," Marissa spoke up.

Heather completely ignored her, but I could see her eyes narrow when Marissa said "juvie". They narrowed in my direction.

"This is Gerald Samson, but we all call him Flame," she introduced coolly, as if she introduced big, buff teenagers every day. 'Ol Flamehead wore a leather jacket, with black gloves that had orange and silver studs around the wrists. He had long, black, dried hair that looked as if the tips had been burnt off. His eyes were menacing, like they could burn into your soul if they wanted to.

"Let's just say he likes fire," Heather brushed him off. "Next we have Louise," she continued. Louise. Perfectly normal, sweet name, right?

Not on this girl. Louise was skinny and noticeably pale. She had a platinum blonde pixie-cut, and a short black skirt. She wore a simple white shirt, but what lay on her hip made up for all simplicity. It was a long knife, sheathed on her belt. She looked down and twirled it around like it was her little toy. The shiny diamond-like gems on the handle of her knife glittered orange from the neon city in the backround.

"Last but not least, meet Raymond Smith," she smiled slightly. I breathed. Raymond Smith. The most ordinary name known to man, which could be a good omen to-

A huge man with the largest muscles I had ever seen stood above us. His shirt was a little too tight, showing off the jillions of muscles he had under. He had a brown buzzcut and tanned skin. He had a orange stud piercing his chin, and wore a spiked bracelet around his left wrist. His eyes bore into me like daggers.

"But we like to call him the Hulk," Heather finished, her jeering smile huge as ever.

We were so dead. There was an arsonist, a deranged knife wielder and a sadistic, on-steroids pro-boxer. And not in the feather-weight competition, that's for sure.

"You think you can run away now, Sammy Keyes?" she sneered. "I promised you dead, and I never break promises, now do I?"

"There's a first time for everything," I growled, trying to act like I could take them on.

The Nightmare Squad stepped out of the van, pushing us slowly back into the empty parking lot. I swear, the tires popped right up and the whole car shuddred when Little Hulky Boy stepped out.

The Hulk walked over to me, fingering my cheek with a finger that looked almost as fat as a pool noodle. Louise took on Casey, twirling her knife around her finger with expert skill.

Billy, who was trying to be a replica of the Hulk, stood, baring imaginary muscles. Flamehead went up to him, pulling out his little box of matches.

Marissa was freaking out more than ever. She was doing the McKenze Dance inside and out. Derek and Gwen were both surrounding her, composing intimidating poses and facial expressions, but it was all unnecessary: Marissa was freaked out just by the sight of them.

Heather Tigerface Acosta walks over to me, smiling at the setup. Evil. Pure evil.

"Back to back!" I shouted at Casey, Billy and Marissa. Billy eagerly stood with his back against Marissa's, and Casey and I pressed our backs together. We couldn't win with brute strength, it was totally obvious. We were outnumbered from the moon and back.

Hulky Boy comes over and waves his beefy piggies right in my face. Then Heather snaps her fingers, and within an instant, Hulky Boy over here gets me in a headlock, and Marissa's got fists right next to her face. I can't see Casey, but from the way he's tensing up, Louise's probably got her knife under his chin or something. Billy got a flame in front of his face, but being Billy, he suavely blows it out, making the Flame himself boil up like a volcano about to erupt.

I brushed Casey's fingers with my own for luck, and we go into action.

I try a kick at Hulky Boy's leg, but he just stays still as a rock. His humongous arm's still around my neck, so I do the only thing I can think of.

I bite it.

It tastes like sweat and jail, but I still rip into it with my canines anyway. Hulky Boy's tough, but his skin is surprisingly weak. Once I've got him groaning and holding his arm to his side, I kick him in the only place I know men are weak. Well, you know what place this is.

Hulky Boy doubles over, cussing words I don't even think have had time to be classfied at cuss words. I deliver one last blow to his leg, and he groans again. Then _Heather _comes flying out of nowhere, grabbing my hair and gouging her nails into my arm. And man! She's filed her nails to perfection because they immediately break skin and I feel the stinging in my right arm. I gut her with my knee in the stomach and she releases her deadly nails, falling back to hold her stomach.

Casey's holding Louise's pale arm up. She has the knife in her grasp, but he has to use two hands to keep her from shish-kabbobing him. Louise is using her other hand to tourniquet Casey's right bicep.

Casey's arm is losing because of this, and Louise's knife grazes his other arm. _That's it, _I thought. _I'm going in._

I don't know what else to do, so I hop on her back and rip the knife out of her hands. It clanks on the cement, flying a few meters away.

I run to the knife, determined to get it before Louise. Casey's occupied with the now-standing Hulky Boy. Heather's still on the ground, thankfully.

I manage to get the knife first, but the moment it's in my hands, Louises pounces on me. I hold the knife up to her chest, regaining composure as we both stand up.

Then, like before, Heather comes flying out of nowhere, knocking the knife out of my hands. I'm so shocked I barely have time to run over and get the knife like before.

Heather throws the knife to Louise, and before I have time to react, she punches me across the face. The right side of my cheek is burning with pain. But I'm angry. I kick her in the shins and she tumbles back.

While I'm watching her tumble back, Louise manages to knock me off my feet so I'm lying on the hard pavement. Her knife's at my chin. I shove her with my hands onto the ground, but then Heather manages to restrain my arms and legs.

Louise is back on her feet, still holding that precious knife of hers. She grazes the knife on my chin, like a little teaser for the big pain. But this teaser hurts and stings. I let out a little cry of pain.

I manage to look at the rest of the scene. Casey's still fighting Hulky Boy, and it looks like he's not doing too good. Hulky Boy's rubbing his shoulder, but he's above Casey, ready to punch with his working arm.

Marissa's screaming as she blocks Gwen's attempts and kicks Derek in the stomach. I watch with horror as Gwen punches Marissa onto the ground. Billy's on Flamey's back, pounding on his back, Flamey slowly crumbling to the ground with each blow. But they Derek comes and pulls Billy off with a grunt and...

I couldn't watch. It was all to much to bear. We were all going to die.

Then, all of a sudden, I think the heavens rained down on us.

Hulky Boy was the first to crumple to the ground. Like an invisible force had come down on him, he just crumpled.

Then went Flamey, which wasn't much since he was tottering around like a drunken person, anyway.

Next to fall was Derek, who was poised to punch Billy across the face.

Then Gwen.

Louise, at this time, was looking at the spectacle. So her blade is nice and high and not close enough to my face to kill me.

But, with the pattern that has seemed to develop, it looked like Louise was going to crumple, too. Her knife was still pointed down at me, so if she lost control of it, it would-

Louise's eyes rolled to the back of her head. The knife came plunging down and-

I rolled out of the way quick enough to see the blade gorged in the cement, two centimeters away from my body.

I looked up just in time to see Heather crumpling to the floor as well.

I exhaled for the first time since I opened the mini-van.

I lay there, stricken for quite a while. And by the silence that passed, I think the others did, too.

Finally, I stood up with shaky legs. I wiped the blood off my chin, and looked up to see four or five teenagers coming towards us in a ratty golf cart. They're screaming like a battle cry.

For some reason, I didn't think that they were going to hurt us. They would've already, if they wanted to.

So I looked over to Louise's limp body, at her back. And what do I see?

A tranquilzer arrow, perfecty lodged in the middle of her back.

I look around. It's the same with the other goons. I walk shakliy over to Casey, who's nose is bleeding slightly and his shoulder is turning a nasty black-and-blue color. "Who do you think they are?" I ask Casey.

"Whoever they are, they saved our butts out there," Casey says in awe. He turns to face me. "Is your chin okay?"

My hand flies up to touch it. It was stinging a little bit, but it would be okay. "Not bad," I reply. "But how's your arm?"

He touches the thin red line on his left arm that had been grazed by Louise's lethal knife. "This is nothing," he says. Then he reaches out to me to tenderly touch the knife cut on my chin.

I push his hand away. "It's nothing," I insist.

He looks at me with concern one last time, but starts to walk over to Marissa and Biily.

Marissa's nose is bleeding, too, but it's light, just like Casey's. But mainly Marissa is fretting over the bruise on Billy's knee where it had skinned the pavement. She gasps at our wounds one last time, then runs into the van to get her good ol' bag of first aid supplies.

By now, the golf-carting teenagers have caught up to us. I looked up to get a better look. They looked like normal teenagers to me, but their clothes were tattered. I noticed, however, that the boy in the passenger's seat had a little gun-like item in his hand.

"Thank you!" I blurt out. Then I realize this sounds stupid so I say, "Who are you guys, anyway?"

The driver parks the golf cart, then steps out. He's got toussled brown hair, he's tall, and he has a strong-looking build. He was the type of guy every girl at my school would faint in front of: cool, tan and handsome. He looks just about our age, maybe a little older.

"We're the Runaways. We were camped over there," he pointed to the right, off into the darkness. "and we saw that you guys could use a little help."

"Well, you came just in time. These people," I geustured to the tranquilzed goons on the ground. "were going to kill us."

He laughed. A kind, husky laugh. "We couldn't just let that happen, now could we?"

I just shuddered, thinking about what would've happened if these so-called Runaways hadn't barged in and saved us.

"My name is Damien. Why don't you go with us to our campsite?" He smiled a nice, warm smile.

I looked at Casey to see what he thought of this Damien guy. "I don't trust him," he whispered into my hair.

Damien took in our indecisive faces. "It's fine. You can drive your car there and everything. I get that you don't trust us. We _did _tranquilize all of these people, whoever they are. You all look like runaways, too."

"We are," I simply replied.

"Then why don't you come along?"

I looked up at Casey. "We can bring the car. Come on. We have to thank them or something," I whispered.

"Fine. But I'm driving," he said.

Damien's face lit up. "You're coming? Great. Follow me."

**Should they trust him? Or is he bad news? Questions, questions...**

**I want to personally thank BammItsStephiee and N3WYORKD3VIL for being the first to review. Your support is amazing, guys! :)**


	8. Moping With Marissa

When we got in the car, Marissa had her monster first-aid kit out and she was bandaging all of us nice and tight. Her eyes were wide the whole time and she insisted on bringing a bat to go meet the rest of Damien's little gang.

I was a little nervous, too. These kids had a tranquilizer gun! But I wasn't scared enough to _not _go. They saved our sorry butts out in that parking lot!

But I couldn't help wondering. How could Heather find us so quickly? The only way that was possible was if-

Images of this morning flashed through my head.

Heather holding onto the car. Heather taking a long time to stab me.

"Stop the car!" I shouted. Casey hit the brakes in alarm.

"Sammy! What is wrong with you?" Marissa accused, her whole body pressed up against the passenger's seat. She had rammed into it because she was still helping Billy with his bruise and hadn't buckled up.

I ignored her as I waited for the van door to open up, and then I went along the side of the door where Heather had attacked me this morning.

I felt along the side of the car, under the fold where the door holds onto while it's opening up. Smooth, smooth, smooth... bumpy. I felt the part again. Wiry, just like I thought it would be.

Casey comes along the side. "What are you doing?" he asks.

"Feel this," I instruct, pointing to the part where it's wiry.

"Woah... what _is _that?" he asks.

"I think it's a tracking device that Heather slapped on this morning... no wonder the door was closing so slowly! It had to get over this little monster right here!"

"How do you know that it's a tracking device?"

"Officer Borsch showed me one before. He said that the police use this sort of thing a lot," I gasp a little. "Heather was over there last night! Maybe she took it from them!"

Pretty soon, I've got the sticky underside of the tracking device off of the car. I examine it carefully- it's just like the ones they use at the police station.

"Wow! How did you figure that out?"

"Well, I thought about how it took her a while to actually _stab _me this morning, and how this door was closing way slower than the other. I guess I'm happy that she didn't stab me right away..." I looked at Casey's new bruises, and then at mine. "Well, nevermind. I would've been okay with _that _instead of _this_."

He sighed. "You're too unselfish for your own good."

I frowned a little, then asked, "What do you think we should do with this?" I held up the stupid tracking device.

Casey smiled mischieviously, then threw the tracking device right in front of the van's front wheel. "Let's go," he said.

I smiled back. _How satisfying, _I thought_. To smash it to bits._

We continued following Damien's golf cart, and then finally we came upon a little campsite in a woody part on the outskirts of Vegas. Simple tents made of some odd, coarse fabric were set up around a pile of burning branches and logs. A few other teenagers were sitting around the campfire, talking and laughing. It looked just like a school bonfire would look like.

Damien got out of the golf cart, and the four others inside did, too. I saw a girl wink at Casey before she hopped out.

Little Miss Flirt had sandy blonde hair that was almost brown. It fell to the middle of her back in soft curls. She was tall, thin and let's just say she had more on the rack than I did. All of a sudden, I felt extremely self conscious. I ran my fingers through my disheveled hair once.

Casey was still looking at her. I smacked his arm.

"Ow!" he said, but didn't say anything else.

Suddenly, I didn't trust these people as much as I did before.

I climbed to the trunk and found what I wanted: a baseball bat. Holly once insisted on bringing at baseball bat when we were staking out a psycho dog/cat fighting ring and I swear it saved our lives.

I pulled it out and twirled it a little, as if I was testing it out. Perfect. I wondered what it would look like swinging across Little Miss Flirt's head...

I grabbed Casey's hand with my free hand. Marissa and Billy hopped out beside us, and we slowly walked towards the campsite.

Damien chuckled a little when he saw the bat I was holding. "Come on over. Really. We don't bite," he smiled in such a warm way that I almost wanted to believe him.

Almost.

"So what's your story, kids?" Damien asked when we sat down on the logs.

"Do you read the papers?" I asked in return.

He laughed again. "Yeah, but we actually haven't had time to read today's..." He walked into one of the tents and came out with a rolled-up newspaper. "Woah!" he exclaimed after he had seen the front page. "This is you?"

I laughed lightly. "Yep."

He smiled back. "Then welcome to the Runaways," he simply said.

"Tha-that's it?" I sputtered.

"What, do you want initiation or something? Actually, I think you've already proven yourself in this," he joked, pointing to the newspaper.

"I mean, you don't care that we're _possibly _criminals? Not that we are- really! I got framed by some invisible freak of nature."

He laughed. "Hey- we're the Runaways. We've run away from foster care, abusive parents, drunkie parents in Vegas- we've seen it all."

"Alright, then. Well, we can't stay long. We've got to get to the Canadian border as soon as possible."

"Why?" he asked.

"It's kind of the game plan- to help us get out of this dog crap."

"Okay, well we'd be pleased to have you stay with us for the night. We've never had celebrities before," he teased, waggling his eyebrows at me. The rest of the teens around the campfire nodded and murmured in agreement.

"Okay, then. Well, just to introduce ourselves, I'm Sammy, and this is Marissa, Billy and Casey," I said, pointing to each of them as I said their name."

"Sammy," he said again, which confused me to pieces. "Well, this is Ricci, Trace, and Hadley," he said, pointing to the two girls and one boy already sitting on the log. "And here's Jemma, Nat, Nolan, and Raewyn," he finished, pointing at the teenagers who had gotten out of the golf cart.

"Hey! Don't call me Raewyn! I should've never told you my real name. For the trillionth time, it's _Rae_." Little Miss Flirt corrected. Rae. So that was her name. I gripped the baseball bat a little tighter.

"So... Damien," Casey eyed Damien cautiously. "We're trying to get to Canada through the most low-populated areas- so we don't get spotted. Any ideas on how we can do that?"

"No prob... Casey. That's your name right?" Damien asked, his earlier tone of brightness slowly fading away.

Casey nodded curtly.

"Why don't you talk to Rae? She traveled here all the way from Canada last year. We're lucky to have her. She's quite a navigator," Damien said in a tone that was still obviously impressed.

Casey silently followed Rae, who lead him behind the tents. I tried to let it slide, but my grip on the bat was getting tighter and tighter.

"So... you guys hungry?" Damien asked, keeping his eyes on me the whole time.

Billy piped up, "No way, man! We're stuffed. We... well mostly _she,_" he said, pointing at Marissa, "bribed this Italian guy and he totally gave us this awesome meal!"

Damien eyed Marissa suspiciously. Marissa just shrugged. "I know the guy," she explained.

A odd sound brightened the air. Laughing.

Casey and _Rae_ laughing.

They came out from behind the tent, still giggling about some stupid thing. I hoped it was about how ridiculously short Rae's shorts were. Fat chance, though.

Then, the Runaways went into their normal routine, cooking dinner, chatting, pushing each other around. Billy started telling some jokes to Ricci, Hadley and Jemma.

Marissa was still sitting their, perpetual confusion on her face. I scooted over and sat down next to her.

"Look at him!" she moaned. "Remember how, before he starting dating me, he had a harem?"

I nodded.

"Well, what if he decides that having a harem is funner than dating me?" she said hopelessly.

"Come on, Marissa. You know Billy. He loves to make people laugh."

"Yeah, but still..." she frowned. "Besides, he drove us to the place I hate the most: Las Vegas. Maybe he wanted me to hate him so much that I would break up with him," she wailed.

"That's so stupid, Marissa," I said, just as one of Rae's loud laughs pierced the air. My eyes narrowed.

Marissa noticed this, too. "What is _up _with that?"

"I don't know. But I have this horrible feeling that I'm gonna lose him," I admitted.

Maybe it was out of romantic angst, or maybe she really did agree with me, but the next words that Marissa uttered were so surprising, I didn't believe they came out of her mouth.

But they did.

"Flirt. Show him that he can't two-time you like that," she simply said.

"Oh, come on, Marissa! That's ridiculous. They're probably just talking as friends," I said, but the second the words came out of my mouth, I knew I was just lying to myself.

Rae's laugh broke through our conversation once more. "You are _sooo _funny! And cute!" she exclaimed. Huh. Why didn't she just skywrite her words? It would be way less conspicuous.

Marissa pursed her lips knowingly. "Uh-huh. Friends."

My anger was boiling more and more each second. I tried to avoid the stiff feeling their laughter left in my chest. I tried to avoid the numbness it left me. So. Casey found someone better. Well, I would show him that I could move on. Not like the last time when I moped and moped for days in the apartment. Nope. Of course he hadn't really cheated on me, it was just another one of Heather's stupid schemes to ruin my life. But still.

I would show him that I was a big, strong girl.

I almost fell over laughing at how cliche that sounded. Whatever. I would still show him.

Casey was still laughing, and now he was showing ol' Raewyn his muscles. Grrrr. I was the _only _girl who touched those muscles.

"So... Damien's pretty cute, right?" Marissa offered.

I looked at Damien one more time. He had brown hair like Casey's, but it didn't curl a little like his. His eyes were a startling green, but they weren't as calming and brown as...

Ugh! I needed to stop comparing everything to Casey. I needed to move on, while he moved on with Rae.

I eyed Damien for a little while. When his eyes met mine, he smiled wide and gestured for me to sit next to him.

"Here I go," I told Marissa, my voice a little shaky.

I didn't know how. All I knew is that I couldn't show Casey that he could just break my heart so easy.

I was going into unknown territory.

I was going to flirt.


	9. Tears, Flirting, and Oldies Songs

**Hey! It's Michaela. I feel horrible for leaving the story off so retarded-ly and taking a while to update, so I'm gonna try to make this chapter good. Even at midnight.**

**Basically, I love my reviewers too much to let them down. :)**

"Hey, Damien!" I greeted, trying to make my voice as bright as possible. It came out sounding like I had choked on one of Dorito's squeaky toys or something.

"Hey, Sammy!" he replied, equally as bright, but not nearly as squeaky. He had a pad of paper out, and was working on an extremely intricate drawing of the flames of the fire.

"Wow, that's _really _good," I complimented. And it was.

"Thanks. This is nothing, though." He shrugged, looking at me with those penatrating green eyes of his.

"As opposed too...?" I questioned. Man. This flirting thing was harder than it looked. I had to give the girls at my school some credit.

Damien eagerly opened his sketchbook. He showed me pictures of lots of things: trees, buildings in Las Vegas, Rae- ugh. He flipped through that one quickly, though.

"Wow! That's really good!" I said, trying to suavely slide closer to him. It turned out looking just clumsy. He didn't seem to notice, which lessened the mortification of the whole thing by a tiny bit.

"Thanks!" he said cheerfully. "Oh. I hope you don't mind, but the guys we tranquilized? Um, Nat and Nolan- they took the bodies back into California? They took a little joyride to San Francisco? Said something about 'dropping those losers out in Tenderloin'?"

Heather. I had almost forgot about her. Almost. How could you forget about the most horrifying near-death experience of your life? But Heather? In the middle of the Tenderloin, a.k.a. the whole enchilada of crime in Northern California? Trust me, I've heard a lot of _creepy _stories about that place. I laughed out loud. "Tenderloin? Isn't that a gazillion miles away?" I asked, forgetting for a second about the flirting thing and bursting into an uncontrollable fit of giggles.

He shrugged. "Well, those guys get bored easily. They do this all the time. They're fast drivers." He shuddered a little. "Real fast."

I managed to control the giggles long enough to ask, "So, they took the golf cart?"

He laughed. "No way, man. They took our car. We have a truck," he explained.

I laughed with him. "That explains it."

"Yeah. How did those creeps find you anyway? It's a long way from Southern California." he asked.

"Well, they're total stalkers... and they stuck a stolen tracking device on our car," I said.

"Oooh. That's sucks, dude." He half-smiled in apology.

"It's okay. But I want to know more about you. How did you get here?" I actually did want to know. I felt twinge of guilt for using him in a way, but I pushed it to the side when I heard Rae's laughing once more.

He took a sharp breath. "I ran away when I was thirteen. Used to live in Orlando."

"All the way from there?" I asked, trying to look impressed.

Damien shrugged. "My parents were drunks, but they were rich. Took a vacation to Las Vegas, dragged me along with them." He laughed bitterly. "I didn't like sitting around smokers and gamblers at the slot machines all day, so I just took off. They were so tipsy on the flight home, I don't think they even noticed they left their kid behind."

I suddenly felt really bad. "I'm so sorry!"

He shrugged again. "My parents were jerks. I met Rae, who stole her dad's truck and ran away from home. This life is much better." He smiled at me.

I smiled back. "That's a nice story. Not the first part, I mean, but about you finally making your own life here." Casey and Rae were coming out from behind the tent. Time to make my move.

I leaned in to hug him, but Damien had other ideas when he-

When he pressed his lips to mine.

The kiss was short, but I didn't feel anything. Nothing. It didn't leave me feeling warm or floaty or anything.

It actually left me feeling cold.

Casey's shouts broke through my thoughts. "SAMMY! What _are _you doing?" He said, walking over. More like stomping over, though.

Me? What was I doing? _He _was the one being all lovey-dovey behind my back with Rae. Something pulsed through my veins. Anger. "Me? What am _I _doing? What were you doing with Rae? 'Casey! Let me feel your biceps! Casey! You're so cute, Casey!'" I imitated in a shrill girly voice. It wasn't exactly Rae's voice, no, it wasn't even close, but it got my point across well enough.

His voice and confidence wavered a little and I noticed it. "It was _nothing_! What were _you _doing kissing _him_?"

"I thought _you _were already through with _me _so I decided that no harm, right? Since you've obviously already moved on!"

"Oh, so that's the reason? Because you were _jealous_? That's ridiculous, Sammy. You know I would _never _do something like that,"

I found myself stuttering like an idiot. Jealousy. I hadn't even thought of that. Jealousy. I didn't like the way it felt in my head. "Well, I can't exactly believe you when Rae's mackin' on you and you're not exactly doing anything to stop it!"

"Whatever, Sammy. I'm through fighting," he looked at the ground and walked into the car.

Tears were stinging my eyes and flowing down my cheeks. I felt like a total loser. Maybe Heather wasn't so wrong about that part, after all.

"Sammy?" Damien asked carefully. "You alright?"

"I'm sorry, Damien," I apologized between sobs. "I should have never been like that."

"No, it was me. I thought that I was onto something with you, but, I don't know..." he mumbled with an unsure voice.

I looked up, wiping away a tear. "I'm sorry, Damien," I repeated. "I don't want to hurt your feelings... but whatever there was between _us_, well I didn't think it would work out anyway."

He breathed a sigh of relief. "So you didn't feel anything, either?"

"Damien, you're a great guy and everything, but... no, sorry." Suddenly, I felt bad for using him. He _was _a great guy. "I'm sure you'll find a girl worthy of you one day, but not today. I suck, Damien. I suck for making you feel this way, and I suck for being a bad girlfriend," I admitted.

"Nah. It's okay. I'm cool. I'm just glad that you don't think that we're a couple or anything, you know, after... the thing."

"So we're cool? Friends?" I offered.

"Friends," he agreed. "And, as a friend, can I tell you something? Don't take it offensively or anything."

I nodded, and he continued. "You're a bad kisser," he admitted.

I laughed a little, remembering the ice-cold experience. "I know."

And, just like that, Damien sent me another bright smile and disappeared into one of the tents.

So there, I sat, alone. I felt like total dog crap. But still, I couldn't be sure if Casey was allowing Rae's flirting.

There was only one way to find out.

I opened the passenger door, hopped in, then closed it behind me. Casey was sitting in the driver's seat, arms around the wheel. He was staring out into the empty parking lot and the glittering Las Vegas lights behind it. The radio played softly in the backround.

"Hey," I tried lightly.

He didn't look up. He just replied, "Hey," in a wistful voice.

Time to go out and say it. I took a deep breath then said, "I was a jerk."

He _still _didn't look up, so I continued. "I guess I was jealous. I saw you with Rae, and you chatting her up and having in general a good time with her. And Rae's everything I'm not: gorgeous, blonde, flirty. I got jealous," I admitted, shaking my head. "I thought I was going to lose you. I thought that I was going to get hurt, so I decided that I would try and show you that I wasn't going to be pushed around." I laughed bitterly. "That didn't work out too well. I ended up kissing a guy who I have no feelings for whatsoever and worst of all, hurt the feelings of the only guy I've ever loved." I gulped. "And I'm sorry."

It hurt, admitting you were wrong. But I was willingly to face it because I didn't want to hurt Casey, even if he never spoke to me again. Even if it all wasn't worth it after all, even if he already made up his mind and my attempts didn't mean a thing to him. At least he would know.

Silence. Every second was like drill digging deeper and deeper into my heart.

Then he spoke up. "I can't let you take all of the blame. It was partly my fault, too. I didn't cheat on you, but I didn't exactly stop Rae, either. I got caught up in all of it. I was stupid. I should have never let her go that far. I didn't think. I didn't think about you, or about hurting your feelings. Honestly? I thought she was just trying to be friendly. Now that I think back, her attitude was a little more than friendly."

More silence. The drill wasn't on full speed anymore, but Casey still wasn't looking at me, so the drill was still there. Still digging into my heart.

"So, what does this mean? Are we over?" I said, tears rimming the bottom of my eyes again. I try to will myself to stop the tears, but one by one, they slowly drifted from the corners of my eyes.

"Do you want us to be over?"

"N-no," I confessed, my bottom lip quivering. Breakups were hard. Especially your first.

"Then we aren't," he answered simply, his gaze still on the empty parking lot.

My brain took a while comprehending this new tidbit of information. "Wha-what? But I thought... I thought-"

He swiftly turned to me and took my face in his hands. He laughed.

"I'm falling to pieces and all you can do is _laugh_?"

"No, I'm laughing because you flirted. Badly."

I wiped away a tear and let a giggle escape from my lips. "Was I really that bad?"

He smiled the little smile I loved so much. "Horrible."

He kissed various spots on my cheeks, kissing away every tear. Then he kissed my lips.

We stayed like that for a while, kissing each other lightly, then passionately, then lightly again. If you asked me later, I would've said it was so cliche and cheesy. But at that moment, I was in a blissful state of happiness, relief and emotion- all at the same time. Once we'd pulled apart, we let our heads stay close, enjoying the company.

"I love you," I whispered.

"I... I like you," Casey whispered back. I scowled, and his face broke out into the wide grin of a little boy who got caught stealing the last cookie from the cookie jar. "Kidding. Kidding. I love you, too, my little Nancy Drew."

"You know I don't like it when you call me that. It makes me feel too... too perfect."

"But you _are _perfect."

I rolled my eyes. "In an alternate universe, maybe. Maybe. Come on, I'm just Sammy!"

"Okay then, Just Sammy." Then he kissed me again eagerly. Huh. Maybe I wasn't such a bad kisser- if I was with the right person.

We lay back in the seats for the rest of the night. I'd scooted next to him so that we were both in the driver's seat. It was a little squishy, but really? I didn't care. Not one bit.

After a good, wonderful hour of just sitting there, we'd spotted Rae and Damien making out from the rear-view mirror.

Casey snorted. "Look at those two."

My mind flashed back to Damien's drawings of Rae. "I think it's like an on-off thing."

"Whatever. Let them do their thing." He leaned in to kiss me again. I didn't think my heart could take anymore bliss.

The radio channel changed to another song. A very familiar song...

_Here's to all you oldies out there. Come on. We know you used to belt this song out in the car when you were a teenager, _the radio DJ said.

The song played.

'Waitin' For Rain to Fall' by Darren Cole and the Troublemakers.

Casey had told me to listen to this song when we were mere, innocent kids in Junior High. We weren't even going out then.

He told me later that the song was one of his secret messages to me. He said he had liked me since the day he met me. Well, the song pretty much explained everything.

I smiled, looking up at him. He smiled back and I laid my head back on his chest.

We drifted off to sleep right then and there, Darren Cole still crooning and coaxing us to sleep.

**Hey guys! Sorry if you thought the chapter was boring and mushy. I'll try to get some excitement in the next chapter!**

**I actually wrote my own lyrics to 'Waitin' For Rain to Fall', and it went along the lines of the third to the last line of this chapter. It's posted here on FanFiction if you want to check it out.**


	10. Tug O War Is So Not Fun Anymore

**Hello wonderful readers. I'm testing my muscle memory out today because it's midnight and my parents will be mightly pissed if they find out that I'm writing when I'm suppoesd to be sleeping. I can't let them see the light from my computer, so I'm typing without looking. So far, it's not that bad, but it's sure not very comfortable. You see what I do for you people? :)**

**'Hope you enjoy the next chapter!**

I woke up the next morning to the Vegas sun streaming through the front window of Mr. Rolling Turd the Third. I looked at the clock. 7:21. It was painfully early for summer vacation, but we needed to start haulin' bright and early.

"Casey." I nudged his shoulder a little. "We should get going soon," I whispered. Marissa was sprawled on the backseat, snoring quietly.

"Huh?" he mumbled, slowly creeping out of dreamland. After he was completely awake, he looked around. "Where's Billy?"

"I dunno," I answered. I checked the rear-view mirror and saw Billy sitting on one of the logs, his face turned towards the dirt.

Casey looked, too. "I'll go talk to him," he sighed.

I thought about Marissa and what she had told me. Maybe I could help them, you know, be a middleman. Middlewoman, actually.

Casey shrugged. "Okay. If you really want to," he said.

"I might as well," I answered, softly pushing myself off his lap and out of the car.

I walked cautiously to where Billy was sitting. "Hey, Billy," I started.

"Hey," he replied in a gloomy voice. Uh-oh. This couldn't be good.

"So... what's up?"

"Did I miss something?" Billy asked randomly. That was Billy. Always springing random stuff at you.

"Miss something as in..."

"Like did I hurt Marissa's feelings?"

"Um..."

"Come on, Sammy. Just tell me. 'Cause I didn't _mean _to do anything wrong,"

"Well... let me ask you something first."

Billy nodded for me to go on.

"Why did you take us to Las Vegas?" I asked, acting like Billy and springing a random question on _him_.

"Do you really want to know?" he said glumly.

Oh, great. This was it. End of the road. In spite of this, I asked, "Yeah. I do," I said, waiting for the hurt. Anything that would hurt Marissa would hurt me. I mean, Marissa is like my other half! The other pea in the pod. I'm salt, she's pepper. You get what I mean.

"I thought she _liked _Las Vegas. I really did. But now she's acting like it's some kind of contagious disease," he moaned.

Relief swept through my body at his words, then horror. "She never told you, did she?" I asked sadly.

"What didn't she tell me?" he questioned, suddenly alarmed.

I looked down at the ground. "Three years ago, her dad came here to gamble and lost ninety-percent of the McKenze's money. He had a drinking problem. They were desperate, and that time was hard for Marissa. I know it's hard to believe, but at one point, Marissa was poor. Insanely, horrifying-ly poor. She's still scarred by that, and she knows that if her even richer relatives up in New York hadn't help them get it all back, she wouldn't have a house. Wouldn't be like she was today." I took a deep breath. "So that's pretty much it."

Billy's eyes were wide. "No-freaking-way. So, by taking her here, I reminded her of pain? What a block of wood I am!" he hit his head once. Then twice. Then three times. Then-

"Billy! Stop it! You didn't know. You can't blame yourself!"

"I know. I just feel really stupid-y for thinking that she _liked _this place. I mean, she and her family used to come here once a month at the very _least_. I deserve this." He hit his forehead again. "And this." He hit his chest. "And-"

My eyes widened at his next, er, destination. "Okay, Billy, I know you're mad at yourself and all, but I _really _don't want to see you hit yourself... there. Just don't."

He laughed. "I freaked you out there for a second, didn't I?"

"To the point where I am going to have nightmares tonight."

He slapped my back and grinned. "Well, enjoy." His face turned serious again. "I have to apologize to Marissa," he said, his face turning red. He slowly made his way into the car.

So I sat there for a while, thinking about the events that have happened so far that have turned my life upside-down. I laughed a little thinking about Heather's reaction when she realized she was dropped in the middle of crime-city.

"Get a room!" I heard someone shout in disgust. It was Casey, and he was scowling as he made his way over to sit next to me on the logs.

This could only mean one thing. "They made up?"

"Yeah," he replied, glaring a little at the van. More importantly, what- or who was inside it.

I laughed. "Of course."

"So, what's the plan today?" he asked.

"Back on the road. You got directions from... her," I grimaced. "Right?"

"Yeah," he answered just as awkward.

"Hey! You guys want breakfast?" Damien called, emerging from the tent. Casey shifted a little, wrapping his hand around mine.

"It won't be a bother, right?" I asked.

"Nah. Rae was going to whip out a big batch anyway. Nat and Nolan are back from Tenderloin, and they eat. A lot."

"Okay, then!" I said happily. A little _too _happily, because Casey tightened his grip on my hand by a smidge.

Once we got a delicious breakfast of pancakes (who knew you could make them out in the middle of nowhere?), eggs and blueberries, we went on our way. The goodbyes weren't tearful, and as for Casey and I, I think they were just relieved goodbyes.

Casey offered to drive, especially since Billy and Marissa were still in there lovey-dovey mode and could hardly even complete sentences. No kidding. We'd ask them questions, and they'd answer half of it, and then get distracted by each other and completely forget about us.

It got annoying, fast.

So I sat in the passenger seat, listening to the radio. I instantly regretted ever turning it on when-

_Police are still on the lookout for the young girl who killed rising star Liz Bedford just yesterday. She and her accomplices were last seen in Southern California, after escaping the local police force. A professional team trained for this sort of situation has been hired and are now searching all of California and Nevada. Remember, if you have any information about this girl, immediately call this toll-free hotline-_

"No," I moaned, slamming my face on the side window. Big mistake, because when I looked in front of me I came face-to-face with-

A young girl, a teenager, staring at me with wide eyes. After her shock wore off, I watched as she instantly whipped out her cell phone, furiously punching in numbers.

"No. No, no, no, no. This can't be happening!" I mumbled.

"What?" Casey questioned.

"That girl-" I choked out. "She knows."

"So..."

"She's calling the hotline... we have to get out of here!" I blurted out.

"Okay, chill, we have enough time before-"

Sirens. Everywhere. Coming up behind us, coming on the side of us, even in _front _of us.

"Dang, they're fast," I whispered in a shaky voice.

"No kidding," Casey replied nervously. Then, he gased the engine. We needed to skee-daddle out of there our we would be straight to Juvie for us.

The sleek black cars came up on the side, from the front, and from the back. Crap. rolled down their windows, and gestured for me to roll mine down, too.

There was no way on Earth that that was happening. But then, the officer pulled out a rock-like object and poised to throw. I screamed, and rolled down the window quickly just as he released it so he wouldn't break the window. The object landed with a _plop!_ in between Casey and I. I reached over to roll up the window, when the guy just reached out and stuck his hand out to stop it. Man, he was strong. I've tried to stop a car window from closing, and it really is extremely painful. I tried to smack his arm away, but this guys got muscles- I can see them bulging from underneath his black cotton t-shirt. He's wearing these shades that cover his eyes, so I can't really see if he's hurting or if he's just chilling out.

"Pull over!" Shades screams.

Yeah, right. Like that was actually going to happen. "No!" I cried stubbornly, still trying to get the stupid window closed.

"Pull over by orders from the Government of California!" he screams, and even though he's still wearing those fancy shades of his, I can see it: he's struggling.

"Well, we're not in California anymore!" I cried. Worst. Comeback. Ever.

"Just pull over!"

"No!" I managed to hit his hand hard enough so that he retracted it. Acutally, I used the lovely little rock-like object he threw in to smack that hand of his.

I stuck my tongue out at him, and then he pulls out another lovely rock and throws it at the window. This time, he actually breaks it.

I screamed as shards of glass fly everywhere. A few hit my skin, scraping parts of my skin. Then, Shades reached out, grabbed my arm, and slowly pulled me out. By now, some other guy had been reached out and was now driving for him. Was that even legal? I bet these goons didn't even care, as long as the government gave them their fat little paycheck.

By now, this guy has got the top part of my torso out of the car, and I'm flailing and holding on for my life. I'm bridged between the two cars, and it's mightly painful. And scary.

"Casey, can't you drive up?" I shrieked desperately. Billy and Marissa were holding onto my other arm, trying to pull me back. I was being used as the rope in a vicious game of tug-o-war- again.

"Sammy! Sorry! There's a car right in front of me!" Casey shouted.

Marissa starts chucking random stuff at him, but they're not strong enough to even faze him. The whole top half of my body was burning with pain.

How was I ever going to get out of this?

**Sorry guys, but I'm so tired I can't even think straight. This staying up late thing is really taking it's toll on my mental health. I'm gonna stop here before the words start jumbling together and everything stops making sense. But, don't worry! I'll make sure I update ASAP!**


	11. I Play Mario Kart

**Finally! I'm updating! I know, I know. I'm bad. But today I went biking with my bestest friend in the whole world and then I had soccer practice! Then, there was a orientation for freshman at the high school. I've been so caught up with everything. And, I keep on thinking that when I finally start school next Monday, I won't be able to update that fast. So, sorry! I really am!**

**But in my last week of freedom, I'll be furiously updating every spare chance I get. Even if that spare second is 12 midnight. **

It was horrible being wedged between those two cars. It was like hanging from the edge of a cliff, waiting to die. I was going to die. I could feel it.

After a few seconds of contemplating my funeral, I snapped back to reality. The reality where I was holding on for my life.

Then it hit me: I needed to give Shades here what _he _wanted in order to get what _I _wanted.

So I shook Billy and Marissa off with all my might, then clumsily hopped into Shades' car. I ignored the screams of Casey, Billy and Marissa as I plopped onto Shades' lap.

Shades was so confused and surprised, that he didn't really move much. The guy who was leaning over Shades to drive was still driving, but he was obviously very confused, too.

"So... you're a professional tracker?" I aksed Shades, desperately trying to distract him.

He nodded, but didn't say a word. He was still recovering from the shock. Perfect.

I slammed my fist as hard as I could to the side of his head. He tottered around a little, seeing stars, but not completely knocked out. And, my fist was pounding like crazy. His skull was hard!

The driver immediately reached over to strangle me. I tried to ignore the pounding in my right hand as I swifly brought it across the side of his head.

Thankfully, the driver's head was a little more, er, _mushy_, cushioning my hand a little and knocking him out easily. His hands dropped, and he plopped like a doll onto the passenger's seat.

Shades was still holding the pedal, and the wheel managed to stay straight, so our driving was still smooth. I let the car go on auto-pilot as worried about a much bigger, and much stronger problem: Shades.

Desperately, I looked around for ways to knock him out. There was nothing. Nada.

In my desperation, I did the stupidest thing in my life. And I've done a _lot _of stupid things, so this act was pretty big.

I held his face in my hands and I-

I brought my forehead to his and slammed them together.

The wave of deliriousness it left me with was painful. But, he was knocked out even more, so I took this opportunity to slam the top of his head with my elbow.

His eyes rolled around a little, like he was trying to stay awake. Eventually, though, they closed and his whole body went limp.

My head was still banging like a drum, but I had to focus. We were slowing down, and before long, the car behind us would crash into us and I would be toast.

I carefully put my foot on the pedal, keeping a soft push. Working really hard not to disturb the perfect position of the wheel, I slowly pushed Shades off the seat and right next to the driver.

Once he was out of my way, I tried to remember the things Casey did when he drove. The pounding in my head was blocking all sane thoughts, though.

Somewhere between sanity and insanity, my mind went back to the hours and hours Marissa and I had spent playing Mario Kart on her Wii. It was pretty stupid and very psychopathic to have my whole life rely on a video game, but my head was hurting so badly that my mind didn't even register that fact. It just registered me as Bowser, who I always claimed, on a motorcycle, speeding through Peach Beach.

You probably think I was insane. And I was. My head was tottering around a little like I was a drunken person. Marissa told me later that I had this crazed look on my face the whole time, like I really needed to pee.

But I just kept on riding, my thumb pressing the imaginary number two on the wheel. The delirious Mario Kart part in me wanted to push someone off the road. Like I always did to Marissa in the game.

I was a maniac at that time. I'll admit it. But my head was pounding and I couldn't even count to three as I got ready to push the sleek black car in front of me off the road.

The impact wasn't as swift as it was on Mario Kart. Definitely not as swift. My whole body lurched to the side at impact, making my head pound even faster and louder.

I forced my eyelids to push open, and the lunatic inside me that was quickly taking over my whole body grabbed the wheel, scooted a little to the side, then stopped, waiting for the pursuing black car behind me to crash into my car and smash me to bits.

Thankfully, as my sane mind would say later, the car stopped in the nick of time. It stopped, but it gave me enough time to zoom forward, the brown mini-van that was ours... was it ours? I couldn't even remember. The drums were getting even faster. I couldn't take it anymore. I looked for the little sparkly rainbow boxes that gave you powers. Maybe I would get the one that would put me on auto-pilot so that I could fix the pounding in my head.

My eyes were still looking for the power boxes as they quivered closed and everything blacked out.

.

"I was insane, wasn't I?" was the first thing I asked when I regained conciousness and woke up with a start.

"Yes, you were." Casey chuckled, smiling at me. I was sprawled out on the back seat of the car, my head on Casey's rolled-up Santa Martina Upper School sweatshirt.

"Ow," I winced as a pang was still in my head. I brought the palm of my left hand to my head, pushing out the last bit of insanity left inside my head. I smiled as the pang disappeared. "All gone!" I exclaimed happily.

Casey laughed again. "That's good."

"She awakens!" Billy announced from the wheel majestically.

"Yes, 'I awaken'!" I imitatated his tone in the same majestic form. "What happened to me, anyway?"

"You crashed!" Marissa blurted out. "You crashed into a tree!"

"Poor thing. It was just a young-un, that poor tree. You mowed it over!" Billy informed me, waving his hands around.

"Well, it managed to stop you-" Casey explained.

"But it got run over flat!" Marissa finished.

I sighed, but it was a happy sigh. "I was really crazy, wasn't I?"

"Totally. You had this lunatic look on your face that looked like you wanted to kill someone. What happened?" Marissa asked.

"Remember when I knocked that guy with the sunglasses on with my forehead?"

"Yeah..."

"Well, it knocked me out, too. Real stupid move, if you ask me. I'm never doing _that _again." I concluded, shaking my head.

"If you were crazy, than how did you manage to drive so well? I mean, other than the knocking the two cars off the road." Marissa turned around to look at me.

I felt my face turn red. "It's embarassing."

"Tell me!"

"Fine," I sighed. "Before you jump to the conclusion that I've officially gone crazy, you have to consider the fact that I was only half-conscious."

Marissa nodded in silent agreement.

"I remembered... Mario Kart."

"_What?_" she blurted, completely bewildered.

"I drove like I was driving Mario Kart."

"_That's _why you pushed that guy off the road and sacrificed your whole car to kill the other one!"

My face turned even redder as I nodded. "I was crazy," I admitted, shrugging.

"That's freaking genius!" Billy exclaimed excitedly. "I need to try that out!" He pushed the pedal down even harder.

"Billy! Billy! Not right now! Really!" Casey interrupted.

"Aw, you guys are no fun." Billy frowned.

I checked the clock at the front of the car. It was only 12:30. So I wasn't out that long.

I rubbed my arms a little. The knuckles on my fist were black-and-blue from when I had punched the driver, and there were bandages all over my arms.

At first I wondered why my arms were covered in cute little dot band-aids. Then I remembered: the shards of glass flying to my arms. The sting.

I opened my right fist tenderly. It still hurt. "Ow," I muttered, not even realizing that I had done this aloud.

Casey looked over. "Is your hand alright?"

"No. It still kind of hurts from the punch," I told him.

Marissa heard this, and immediately scrambled over to the backseat, jumping over the seats and the backpacks that got in her way. "Let me wrap it up," she offered, taking advantage the opportunity to do some real first-aid.

"Wait, why the cute little dot band-aids?" I wrinkled my nose.

"They're adorable, aren't they?" she cooed, but then turned serious again when she saw my frowning face. "You got cut!" she scowled.

"It's fine. Thanks for taking the glass out and fixing my skin up."

She smiled warmly. "My pleasure."

"Hey, what happened to the glass, anyway?" I asked, realizing that it looked good as new.

"Spare parts under the car!" Billy called out in reply.

"So the window works good as new?"

"No, it won't close. Or open. Actually, if you press the button, it will burst into flames."

"How... convenient," I muttered.

He shrugged. "My mom bought the repair kit from a random guy on the street. She didn't want to spend a lot because she knew I was going to crash it in five months, tops."

I nodded. "Smart mom."

He shrugged again. "Hey, I made it past the minimum number of months mark! Do I get something for that?" he begged.

Marissa finished wrapping up my hand and returned back to her seat. "You get this!" she said, leaning into kiss him.

"Really guys? Get a room!" I scolded playfully.

"This _is _the only room," Billy pointed out between kisses.

"You're stuck with us," Marissa added.

"That's great," I muttered sarcastically.

But hey- we were on the road, we'd ditched those trackers, Heather, and the police force- all in two days. That was already a lot of trouble, so it got me thinking- can you really get into anymore trouble when it seems like you'd reached the maximum number of times possible?

I hoped so.

Because, if not, then can you really get lucky that many times?

Had our luck finally run out?


	12. Fast Food to a Whole New Level

**Hey guys! It's been getting harder and harder to update because there's been crazy high school registration, friends catching up on scheds, and everyone wants to hang out last minute. Plus, I've been practicing piano like a maniac and my mom just thought of a million chores. And then there's soccer practice... you get the gist. Basically, I've found myself updating at twelve midnight. Again.**

**In the meantime, have you guys read the Wendelin Van Draanen book Flipped? I just finished reading it and it's totally awesome- just like all other W.V.D. books. They're making a movie out of it, too! I'm so proud of Wendelin. Now, if only they would make one for Sammy Keyes...**

**Who would play Sammy? I read somewhere that there's a possibility of Nathan Kress from iCarly to play Casey if they made a movie, and I think it's perfect. Simple looks, but still adorable. What do you guys think?**

We rode for a while, joking around. Eventually, though, our food supply got smaller and smaller, until we were fighting over the last Dorito. Yep, we were hungry. And cranky. We needed food, or else I'm pretty sure heads would roll.

"I'm hungry!" Billy complained in the backseat. Casey had switched over to driving.

"Well, then let's get some food," I sighed. "It will be hard. We can't take any chances after what happened _last _time. Especially since the story's had more time to spread."

"What do you guys want?" Marissa asked.

We had passed by a sign of restaurants at the next exit. Wendy's, Carl's Junior, Red Robin-

"McDonald's!" Billy called out.

"You just want the toy," Marissa accused.

Billy looked around nervously, pretending to be in denial. "Nooo..."

"Who wants McDonald's?" I asked.

Billy's hand shot up like a rocket, and Marissa and Casey muttered out an "Ok." I was cool with it, too. I guess when you're on the road with no adults around, teenage hormones take advantage of it and demand the fattiest food possible. For once, my stomach grumbled in agreement.

"Ok, cool. One problem though. We can't exactly just prance in there. We're outlaws now, remember?" I pointed out.

Marissa shrugged. "Let's use the drive-through, then."

"Bad idea. They have security cameras, plus we can't show our faces when we take the food," I contradicted.

"Good point."

I felt the wheels in my mind turning, thinking of schemes to get our food. The pang in my belly prodded me along. "Ok. I have a plan. Marissa, tuck your hair in a baseball cap. Billy, you wear a cap, too." I quickly explained my plan to the others while Casey exited the freeway and pulled into the McDonald's parking lot.

We let Billy and Marissa out first. "Don't fool around, Billy!" I told him as he opened the door.

He grinned mischieviously, rubbing the palms of his hands together. "No promises."

Marissa rolled her eyes and slapped his back playfully and lighly kicked him with the back of her shoe. "I'll watch him," she assured me.

"Please do. Knowing him, the place we'll probably leave this place burning. But really," I eyed her carefully. "don't get caught," I finished.

Marissa gave me a nod, then I took Casey's place as the driver. He slipped into the passenger's seat. "Ready to rock?" he asked, winking at me.

I took a deep breath. "Let's go."

Trying not to bust up and think of Mario Kart, I pulled the car out of the parking spot, and started through the drive-through entrance.

So my plan was dramatic. So it was drastic. But the four of us were all starving, and we would probably rip each other's heads off if we waited five more seconds to get food. How embarassing would it be to not get killed by the police, but by your own team? I laughed out loud at the thought as I threw on my softball cap, making sure it covered my face from the overhead security camera above.

_Hello, welcome to McDonald's. How can I help you? _the voice from the little box said in a bored tone that radiated "I hate my job."

"Hi," I tried in a gruff voice. I didn't know where it came from. I guess I supposed that if I was going to cover my face, might as well cover up my voice, too. It sounded pathetic, really. I could tell because Casey was painfully trying hard not to bust up laughing. Plus, the words were almost uncomprehendable. "I'll have two Angus Hamburgers, six honey-mustard snack wraps, two Filet-o-fishes, twenty chicken nuggets, six large fries, and four diet-cokes." Okay, so we were overshooting it. But sometimes teenager hormones and hunger pangs just spoke for themselves. Really.

_Thank you, _the voice said back, but I could tell that the "thank you" really meant "I couldn't care less, just give me my money and while you're at it, tell me when my shift is over." The cashier repeated my order, and told us to go to the next window.

Casey and I quickly counted out the right amount of money. But, Billy had traded in all of our one-dollar bills and coins for pennies because the man promised him the "shinniest pennies to ever walk the Earth". We didn't know what he was doing, okay? We thought he was asking for directions. We thought that _until _he excitedly returned with a big sack that was as heavy as a block of granite.

"Billy, Billy, Billy," Casey cursed as he hastily counted out enough pennies. He threw them all into an empty ziploc bag. Man, that thing was heavy! We planned on paying all in pennies and one ten-dollar bill because what were you supposed to do with pennies on the run? Throw them at pursuing police officers? Well, maybe you could throw the bag at them, but really? Who likes throwing money away, even if it was all pennies?

I smoothly pulled up to the window. Casey dove to the backseat to hide his face.

"Sir? Here's your order," the bored voice from the box spoke out to me in real life. I turned quickly when I realized that Marissa and Bill hadn't done their deed yet. "Casey?" I hissed. "Did you text them?"

"Yeah, I did!" Casey whispered back.

This either meant that a.) They couldn't find what they were looking for or b.) Billy had screwed up. It was a fifty/fifty chance, really.

"Sir! I said 'here's your order,'" the cashier repeated impatiently. I could pratically feel him screaming to himself "Get me out of here."

Then everything blacked out. The lights in McDonalds-everything.

And I smiled.

It was all part of the plan. Marissa and Billy had found the power outlet and had pulled the plugs. Quickly, I grabbed, the food, threw it in the passenger's seat and heaved the ziploc bag of pennies with all my might.

A resounding "Ow! Dammit! My foot!" echoed throughout the shocked and silent store. I chuckled to myself as we pulled out.

"Get in, get in!" I shouted to a hustling Billy and Marissa. I let them use the passenger's door because it would be a year before the sliding doors opened and closed.

They scrambled in, hopping over the seats and iinto the back. Casey went past them and replaced me in the driver's seat.

"Thanks for taking over in that short time. I knew you could do the fake-voice thing," he said.

"Was that sarcastic?"

"Of course not."

"Was _that _sarcastic?"

"What? What are you talking about?" His face twisted in a confused, but adorable way.

At this point, I was so distracted about adorable way his face looked when he was confused, and I couldn't even remember. "I don't know," I shrugged.

He hopped onto the freeway as quick as possible. The whole time, Marissa and Billy were chattering about _their _experience.

"The freaking outlet box was locked!" Marissa complained.

"Ah, ah, ah. You're forgetting the part where Billy-Man swept in and saved the day!" Billy gloated.

"He used a penny to pick the lock, can you believe that?"

"Hey! That was a quality penny!" Billy defended himself.

Marissa rolled her eyes again. "Yeah, if you think greening pennies are quality. It was so crapped up that it made a weird shape that fit into the lock."

"Still!"

"We should never trust you with our money anymore. We need, like, a Billy-proof safe."

"Don't hurt the penny's feelings. It didn't do anything to you," Billy pointed out.

"Yeah, it did. It changed from a perfectly good five-dollar bill to a worthless piece of turd! And whose fault was _that_?"

"You're just jealous because the penny knows how to speak Latin."

"Uh-huh. That must be it."

"Guys! Would you just shut up and eat your calories!" I shouted. I couldn't take their bickering one more second while I downed this absolutely satisfying Filet-o-Fish.

But for once, they didn't shout back. They just ate. They were as hungry as I was.

"Hmm... we should feed those monsters more often. It seems like it does a pretty good job of shutting them up," Casey whispered to me.

"True dat. But maybe we shouldn't be so drastic next time? It was only McDonalds! If we wanted a meal drenching with fat, we could've just gotten chips at the vending machines at the next rest stop."

"Well, we wanted a quality meal," he laughed. "But anyway, we only have pennies, remember?"

I laughed back. "Oh, right. Pennies. We really are a messed up group, aren't we?"

He shrugged. "It makes it interesting."

I nodded in agreement. "It sure does. But I could do without the pennies. As much as I like good ol' Abraham Lincoln, I think I'd rather have his picture in paper, not copper."

"That's Billy for you. I've been best friends with him for more than ten years, and everytime he does something, it's something he's never done before. Just when I think I've seen it all- Billy's there to make sure that doesn't happen." He laughed again. Gosh, how I loved his laugh. It was manly, but cute at the same time. Everytime he laughed, deliriously happy chills ran up my spine, and it made me want to make him laugh more.

"Well, he hasn't done something like..." I threw something random out there. "bungee jumping from the top of the building."

Casey laughed again. "Honestly? He's actually done that. When he was seven. He jumped off his roof hanging from all of his belts tied together. Broke his arm, but he was happy because it was his lifelong dream to become a stuntman for Indiana Jones."

"Well, he hasn't..." I struggled to come up with something Billy hasn't done before. It was harder than it looked, considering Billy's pretty much the craziest kid ever to walk the face of Earth. "Given a policeman a wedgie yet." It was random, even more random than Billy himself.

"Wow, random much?" Casey agreed, echoing my thoughts. "But, he hasn't... not that I know of. Are you trying to predict a bad omen? I thought you _liked _police officers!"

"Well, I do like Officer Borsch... when he's not yelling at me to use the crosswalk. But really? I don't like other police officers. They snoop into people's private business too much."

"That's their job!"

"No- it's a detective's job."

"You seem to do it a lot."

"Yeah, well, I don't count. I have a snooping disorder. You know, SDs?" I laughed. "Plus, I don't _try _to snoop. Usually I'm just protecting myself from Heather, or from the law. I just happen to, you know, _stumble _upon these kinds of things. I don't go _looking _for trouble."

He laughs again. "Uh-huh. Whatever you say, Nancy Drew."

"I told you not to call me that!"

"Nancy!"

"Stop it!"

"Okay, Nancy."

**Sorry the chapter was sort of drabble-ish and a little boring. I was half-way delirious writing this. I'm gonna try to write the next one during the day and finish it during the night, but no promises. I've got a life, too!**

**Anyway, hoped you still liked it!**


	13. Phone Calls

Everything had been so hectic and, er, _dangerous_ that I hadn't been able to do the one thing that mattered to me the most.

And, coincidentially, it was probably the most dangerous and risky act of all.

Call Grams.

Yeah, I know, she's my grandma. Should I really be afraid of her? But she was the closest thing to a mother I'd ever had in my entire life. Really, I don't think airhead mothers who ditch you for sparkles are that great parentals.

But Grams is. She actually _cares_. And even though she's basically living off government money, she still tries to give _me, _her fugitive granddaughter, a good life. And that's why I admire her the most. That, and she makes rockin' oatmeal. No one makes oatmeal as good as Grams does.

She had already called my cell phone at _least _a thousand times. I hadn't been able to check it with amid all of the craziness that was my life.

I took a deep breath, then pressed the call button on her name.

"Grams?" I asked cautiously and weakly. My heart thumped wildly in my chest.

I heard her exhale deeply on the other line. Knowing Grams, it was probably her first exhale since I'd left. "Samantha!" she exclaimed in relief. She quickly changed from my loving grandmother to my guardian. "Why didn't you call?" she asked in a stern voice, or as stern as you can get when you've been floating on the ceiling for the past twenty-four hours.

"I'm sorry, Grams," I stumbled. Why was it so easy to protect yourself from accusations by complete strangers, yet so hard to protect yourself from accusations by someone you love to pieces? "I hadn't really had much time, and-"

"You know that's not an excuse, Samantha."

"I know, I know." I breathed out slowly. "I'm sorry, " I repeated.

Official ending her parenting session, Grams switched back to loving grandmother. "How have you been?"

"Okay, Grams," I lied. I didn't want to worry her more with all of the situations we'd been in. "You?"

"My TV and radio's been on the whole day. The police haven't come here yet, but they know your name now," she informed me.

I sighed. "I knew they would get there eventually. Remember, when they inevitably knock on your door, tell them that I live with my Aunt."

"Your aunt? You don't have any aunts."

"Exactly. Just act oblivious. They'll pass by you eventually." I exhaled deeply. "I'm really sorry about this, you know."

"I know, sweetheart. Now be safe," she said.

"I'm trying," I half-lied. "I'll call you later."

"Ok then, dear. Bye."

"Bye, Grams."

I pressed the hang up button and flipped my phone closed.

"Called your grandma?" Casey asked.

"Yeah."

"How was it?"

"She didn't faint," I informed him, still kinda dazed.

"Impressive," he grinned, nodding his head.

"I want to be a grandma when I grow up!" Billy piped up.

Marissa rolled her eyes. "You're so random, Billy."

"I know. But you love me anyway, right?"

Marissa got all mushy inside. "Of course," she cooed.

I felt my phone vibrate again. My cell didn't recognize the number, but it had a Santa Martina area code.

Oh crap. It was probably Heather, telling me that she would rip my head off and feed it to the Hulk. I shuddered involuntarily.

But what if it wasn't? What if it was Grams, calling me back from, I don't know- Mrs. Wedgewood's phone. But then I remembered that Mrs. Wedgewood's number was programmed into my phone so she could call me anytime, anywhere. Poor Grams. I'd left her alone to hoist Mrs. Wedgewood's XXXXL tush back up on her throne herself.

So if it wasn't Grams callling from Mrs. Wedgewood's, then who could it be? I considered letting them leave a message, but I said my whole name in my voicemail like the blockhead I was, so it was like putting a red flag on top of my head for them to come and find me.

I picked it up, half expecting to hear Heather's two-faced snarl coming from the other end. When nothing came, I rasped a faint "Hello?"

"Samantha Keyes? Sammy?" a voice said. Not Heather's, definitely. Unless Heather mysteriously transformed into a man... that would a be quite a sight. But the voice was familiar, and I wracked my brain trying to remember.

"Who is this?" I asked quietly.

"Sergeant Borsch," the man said.

I still didn't believe him, so I said "Prove it."

"How?"

"What did you pose as when you solved the mystery of the missing cats three years ago?" I asked, thinking of the most random time ever.

"El Gato, pro wrestler," the man said back without hesitating.

"And how did we let you out of the back of the truck you were held hostage in?"

"Stomping," he said back.

Finally satisfied, I exclaimed "Officer- I mean Sergeat Borsch! How did you get my number?"

"Your friend Holly's been helping me out."

"Oh. Well, why did you call?"

"Just checking in... and I have some interesting information," he said quietly.

"What is it?" I asked, intrigued.

"Tell me how you are first," he insisted.

I rolled my eyes. "You read the papers. You know what's happened so far."

"I know, and I can't believe you knocked a police officer off the road!" he exclaimed. But his tone wasn't mad. It was more... impressed.

I shrugged. "They were pulling me out of the car. While it was moving. I had to do _something_."

"Huh. Just when I thought you'd gotten into enough trouble, you pull a fast one."

I took a deep breath. "What are the charges for that one?"

"Big. Unless, of course, your name is cleared."

"Which is unlikely."

"I don't know. I checked your bumper car vehicle and..."

"And?"

"It was rigged."

**Cliffhanger! Sorry the chapter was shorter. You'll thank me later. If I kept on writing, it would turn out horribly, anyway. I'm so tired. It's been a long day.**


	14. Ol Borschead Screws Up Again

**Ok- I'm a bad girl. I admit it. I've been so busy, though. Sorry guys, but here it is! The next chapter! These next ones will take me a little longer because high school's started! But I'll make sure I keep up with this story, because I love writing it and I love all of your feedback.**

"I knew it! I knew it!" I yelped, scaring everyone in the car and causing Casey to hit the breaks like there was no tomorrow. I was thrown forward in my seat, but I was so ecstatic, a bus could have hit us and I would still be smiling.

"Now, don't get too excited, Sammy," Officer Borsch warned, killing the fun- like always. "It will be hard for us to justify this, especially since you've made quite a name for yourself over the past two days."

"I know. But there was nothing I could do about it! Besides, who was the person who rigged my bumper car?" I asked.

"I don't know yet, Sammy. I know the woman in charge did it, but she won't say a word. Besides, I don't think _she's _the one you should be worried about- I think you should be worried about the one who bribed her," he pointed out. "Well, who have you made enemies with lately?"

"Heather! It was Heather!" I blurted out. Of course it was Heather. I should have seen it the instant Officer Borsch told me that my bumper car was rigged.

"Samantha, I know you still resent Heather for what she has done for you in the past, but I do not believe that it was her. She was still in the Juvenile Detention custody when the accident happened."

"Yeah, but-"

"No buts, Sammy. I don't think it was her," he repeated firmly. "Now, who else could have a hatred towards you?"

I thought for a while, but my mind was so clogged with all of the people who have come after me with knives, curses, bad attitude- you name it, and I've been chased with it. "A lot of people, but Heather-"

"Heather is not a suspect. But who could have such a strong hatred that they would execute such a drastic plan?"

"A lot of people..." I admitted thoughtfully. Countless, actually. It would take me ages to go through all of the dangerous, vicious enemies I've made since I was a mere seventh grader.

"Sorry, Sammy, I have to go!" Officer Borsch suddenly whispered sharply. "I'll look into the case some more, but in the meantime, stay out of trouble, you hear me?" he breathed. "Oh, hey Doris, I was just checking-"

The dial tone rang in my ears.

I sighed and closed my phone. It was good to have someone like Officer, er, _Sergeant_ Borsch on my side, but I was such an underdog it wasn't even funny. It's ironic how I, a (mostly) innocent, (mostly) normal teenager girl would get into so many strange and weird situations.

I laid back and thought. Okay, so if Officer Borsch _was _right and Heather _wasn't _the culprit, then who would be so evil that they would load all of this crap on me?

Chills ran through my backbone when I pictured all of the people I've gotten into jail. I pictured them behind bars, cursing and threatening me. I shuddered involuntarily.

But I still had this weird sinking feeling that it had been Heather all along. I had no proof, though, and according to Officer Borsch, Heather was a saint now.

I thought and thought for about an hour, still trying to figure out who framed me and why. It was like a burning hole in the back of my mind. I couldn't stop thinking, and even when Billy and Marissa started to throw Red Vines around, I still sat there, my face scrunched up in an expression that said, "Beware and shut up! I'm thinking!"

"Orange!" I screamed after a good hour. It was the first thing I had said in a while, and it was probably one of the randomest things I've ever said.

I've said a _lot _of random things.

But everything popped into place with that one word. Everything that would drive Heather all the way back to Juvie.

And get me out of the doghouse for good.

Casey looked back at me incrudelously and said, "Orange?"

I nodded confidently. "Orange."

He still looked confused when he said, "You haven't said anything in practically an hour and now you're telling me _orange_?"

I didn't know why he was so surprised. Really. This sort of weird behavior was normal for me. But still, I looked at him straight as I explained. "Orange as in orange gems as in Heather's orange earring, orange as in Heather's earrings, orange as in Derek's rings, orange as in Gwen's earring studs, orange as in the studs on Flame's gloves, orange as in the gems on Louise's knife, orange as in the stud piercing on the Hulk's chin! And more importantly, orange as in the necklace on the bumper car lady's neck," I blurted out fast as lightning. But saying all of this made me feel strangely calm, which was strange because people usually don't feel calm when they realize that their archenemy suceeded more than they thought.

But Casey understood me when I talked that fast. He's had five years to get used to it. His eyes went wide and he gripped the steering wheel harshly. "I don't believe it! That little..." he stumbled, looking for a PG rated word. "DEMON!" he finally settled on.

Marissa stuck her head in, too. "Wait a second, Sammy. The necklace thing _might _just be a coincidence, you know."

That's Marissa. When you tell her to calm down, she acts spazzy. When you want her to be on your side, she suddenly acts sensible. Bipolar much?

"Coincidence? _All _of them wear the same stupid orange gem! How can that be a coincidence?" I shouted, adrenaline pumping quickly through my veins.

"But-"

"Whatever. I'm calling Officer Borsch," I resolved. Before Marissa could say anything else, I flipped open my phone and call Officer Borsch's number back.

I waited for several rings, but eventually he picked up. "Sammy? Is that you?" he whispered feverently.

"Yeah it's me!" I practically shouted. "I have some news!"

"Can you keep it down? Doris might come back any second now," he warned.

"Okay," I said a little quieter, but it took allf of my free will to lower my voice. "It was Heather! I have proof!"

"What sort of proof is this?" he asked suspciously.

"The bumper car lady! She was wearing an orange gem just like the rest of Heather's creepos were wearing!" I blurted, slapping my hand on the dashboard of the car.

"Well, we _did _find controls to your particular car, but the woman has been proven innocent. She hired a very good lawyer," he added.

"Of course she hired a good lawyer! _Heather _bribed her with that huge gem of hers!" I pointed out.

"Oh. Well then, I guess you'll be upset to know that... nevermind," he muttered.

"What? What nevermind?" I burst out, my eyes wide.

"I didn't know, okay? Don't get mad," he pleaded. _Pleading. _That was something that Officer Borsch never, _ever _resorted to, even if he was about to be thrown into a tank of sharks. Really. Officer Borsch would probably keep his pride before his life.

This scared me for what was going to come next.

"Heather... she came to my office, practically dying about what was happening to you. She begged to help. I didn't know! And I..."

"You what?" I demanded, my heart stopping.

"I let her track you from your cell phone," he confessed.

"WHAT?" I shouted, having a heart attack and bleeding like crazy inside.

"She seemed really sincere. Really! I wouldn't let _anyone_ do that to you. I thought I could trust her," he admitted. "But don't worry! I'll turn the tracking device off right now," he added quickly.

I groaned. My life was over, and it was some fatty police officer's fault.

"Get out of there. Right now!" he ordered.

"You think I'm not trying to do that?" I shouted back. Okay, so it was rude. But how could Borschead have been so _stupid_?

"Get off the phone, and go as fast as you can away from there. I'll get there as soon as I can, and I'll call the local police right now," he assured me. I wasn't assured. Big surprise.

I slammed the phone down angrily. "She knows where we are. We have to get out of here," I told Casey firmly.

"I'm on it." Then he slammed his foot down and everyone in the car lurched forward in surprise. "Check for police. I'll concentrate on driving," he told me.

"Got it," I confirmed. "Billy, Marissa, check for Heather," I ordered.

"Heather? Heather Acosta?" Billy asked carefully.

"Of course Heather Acosta!" I scolded. But then my heart stopped because Marissa had a look of utter shock on her face. "Heather's right behind us, isn't she," I asked, but it came out sounding more like a statement. I felt my arms. They were shaking.

"Yeah." Marissa nodded reluctantly. "She's driving," she informed me.

I looked back. There was Heather, alright, with a crazed look on her face. Derek was in the passenger's seat, with a similar look on his face. I took a deep breath, trying to think straight. Not surprisingly, it didn't work.

Casey was still barreling down the freeway, completely focused on not killing us. But he managed to put his hand on my shaking arm. I felt a little more calm in an instant.

"It's gonna be alright," he said soothingly. As much as I wished that were true, I couldn't exactly believe it right now.

"I hope so," I muttered and braced myself for Heather's wrath.


	15. She Has a Freakin Gun!

**Heyyy! So I'm a bad girl... again. I haven't posted in forever. I know, I know. It's high school! Sometimes it's a nightmare and sometimes it's the funnest thing of your life. I've had a little bit of both.**

**Anyway, I totally wore a Sammy Keyes worthy outfit today. Gigantic hoodie, skinny jeans and of course- converse. _Obviously _I had to continue. That and, I have a lot of time on my hands since we have a four day weekend. I was supposed to go camping with my BFF, but I'm stuck here because I have piano lessons. Too bad. It would've been a Wild Things type of sitch.**

**I'm in a pretty talky mood right now, and you probably want to hit me for drabbling on so long, so here it is.**

**Chapter 15.**

Car chases. Why were they so familiar now? I felt like I was going through the same motions for the billionth time.

Casey had his eyes glued to the road. I was still shaking a little bit, and I tried to will my body to stop. But, there are times when your body just seems to have a mind of its own.

Heather was glaring at me with a medusa-type stare. She had the hair and everything. I shuddered a little bit.

I want to say that something exciting happened, but nothing really did. We just kind of speeded around like that on the highways. Absolutely going nowhere. Surprisingly, Heather couldn't catch up to us, and weirdly enough, police didn't pull us over.

After twenty minutes or so, Casey broke out of his creepy driving-trance and said, "What's the plan, Sams?"

What _was_ the plan? Don't look at me for plans. It may seem like I'm always prepared, always ready to go, but the truth?

I'm just winging it.

I sighed. "See how long you can stall," I muttered. See? Winging it.

The truth was that I wanted him to stall so that I would have enough time to figure this crazy thing out. Stupid Borschead! This was all his fault.

After another twenty minutes, Casey blurted "We're gonna be out of gas in less than ten minutes,"

I panicked. "Pull over," I said hastily.

"What? NO! She's gonna kill us!" Marissa wailed.

"We have no choice," I said firmly, trying to hide the doubt in the back of the my mind.

So Casey quickly got off the freeway. Of course Miss Medusa followed us. We ended up in the parking lot of a shopping complex. It was fairly empty, and Casey quickly parked in the back.

Now all we could do was sit and wish we were invisible.

That didn't work. Figures. We were totally and completely trapped. I watched as Heather trampled out of the car, a vision of utter hate.

Her freak-crew stepped out, bruised but angry. I pressed against the window, watching their every move.

Unfortunately, Heather eyed me right away and creepy sort of grin spread onto her face. She reached into her back pocket and-

My blood went cold.

It was a gun.

I've seen guns before, okay? I admit it. In fact, I even been shot at with one. It's not fun, trust me. At first I thought it would be cool, like I was some teenager James Bond, but it's not. It's scary, and it's _loud_. Well, at least the older ones are. The one in Heather's little piggies was newer-looking. That wasn't good news for me. I could probably be shot a million times and no one in this little town would even know.

Heather went up to the window and put her face close to the gas. I guess I should've backed away right then, but I was so frozen with fear at the gun, that my face kinda just stayed there, my jaw glued to the ground.

Of course, Heather wouldn't be merciful to my awkward state. She pulled the gun up next to her face, pointing right at me, touching the glass. Her finger moved to the trigger.

At this point, everyone, even Casey, was frozen solid like me. We didn't say a word.

Then Marissa screeched.

Heather's finger moved oh-so-subtly on the trigger. Somewhere between Marissa's screeching and Heather pulling the trigger, by brain said, "Wake up, ya idiot!" I moved quickly, my heart pounding as the shot went off. I was right. It _was _quiet. Quieter.

It made a hole in the glass, straight through the other side of the car. Luckily, nothing or no _one _was in the line of fire, but the sound of the shot was enough to wake everyone up.

"Noooo!" Billy wailed.

"I know! She has a freakin' gun!" Casey joined in.

"Noooo!" Billy said again. "My mom's gonna feed me to our dog! Look what she did to my car!" Billy whined.

"Shut up, will ya?" Marissa scolded. "What are we gonna do?"

"I know what you're going to do," Heather said, her icy voice breaking through our little conversation. "Get out here so I can shoot you right, loser," she said to me, holding her gun up as warning.

Really, what are you supposed to do at gun point? Dive under the car? You can't. Especially with the crazy powerful gun she was wielding.

Heather pulled at the door, which didn't open. She turned to Louise. "Get over here," she ordered.

Louise walked over and stuck her knife through the crack of the door. It was a new one, of course. We weren't that stupid as to actually make sure she had it went they were knocked out.

The blade pressed through, eventually making it into the car itself. Billy was pulling his hair out in the backseat. "Just open the door, Sammy!" He wailed. I swear that boy would die in place of his car.

He pushed us out of the way, unlocked the door and opened it from the driver's seat before any of us had the chance to even say a word. The tip of Heather's gun flew to the side of my head at once.

"Sammy!" Casey screamed. "Put the gun down, Heather."

She chuckled and took the gun off the side of my for a second to point it at Casey. "Yeah, right. You do anything, and I'm blowing little Miss Nancy Drew's brains out right now," she warned.

My insides burned at the thought of Casey being shot. Enraged at that and the Nancy Drew comment, I snarled, "Leave him alone, Heather. Leave all of them alone. This is between you and me, and you know it,"

"You don't make the rules. _I'm _the one with the gun, remember?" She grabbed my arm, not caring that the tips of her fingernails were digging into my arm. I resisted the urge to scream at the pain. I had to show her that I was strong, even if I was falling apart more and more each second.

Eventually, she dragged me to the open space between our two cars. I thought hard. Heather's evil, but does she really have the will to actually _kill _someone? Would she actually shoot me if I made a move? Or would she hesitate?

How much has she changed since she went to Juvie?

Either way, I was going to die. So, before I could think about it and changed my mind, I kicked her hard in the legs and ducked quickly before she blew my brains out.

The shot went off. I heard Heather cuss. "You little..."

But I was on the ground, and Heather was right above me. After a session of furious cussing and insults, she realized this and aimed her gun right at me. I got on my knees and-

The shot went off again. It hit me straight in the side, and I fell back at impact.

A sharp pain went through me. My hands flew to my side, as if they could stop the hurt. But they didn't, and I lay on the pavement, groaning.

Heather smiled slightly, but I could tell she was still surprised that she had actually shot someone. Huh. She actually hadn't turned into a full-on serial killer during her time in Juvie.

Casey shouted Heather's name. He ran up to her. Luckily, she was still looking at me with an astounded expression on her face, so she didn't have much time to react as Casey tackled her. I knew he wouldn't have enough will to actually make her bleed- I mean, she was his sister. But he pinned her down, knocking the gun out of her reach. It slid down the parking lot.

I watched as Billy raced like there was no tomorrow after the Hulk, who had gone in pursuit of the runaway gun. He jumped on his back, and started pounding his fists on the Hulk's thick skull.

Marissa ran to my side when she saw that everyone was occupied. "Ohmygosh, ohmygosh, ohmygosh!" she screamed when she saw me holding my side, which was starting to bubble up with blood. For some reason, though, it didn't hurt as much as I thought it would. I've never been shot before, but I've always pictured it with grueling and unbearable pain. But for some reason, the pain was... bearable. It wasn't exactly like a Sunday Morning picnic either, but at least I could actually see. At least I was actually coherent and sane this time.

I felt my pocket some more. My fingers brushed across something hard. I didn't remember having a bone there...

It was my phone.

Marissa saw this, too. She gasped a little. "Your cell phone... it blocked the shot!"

"Not exactly, genius. I'm still bleeding," I pointed out bitterly.

"The bullet only grazed your side, too- augh!" she screamed as she saw that the rest of Heather's gang was up above us.

"How's it going doctor," Louise teased menacingly.

Marissa's brow furrowed up. "I really don't like you," she growled.

"Come on, Marissa. You gotta talk the talk," I encouraged, my mind momentarily pulling away from by far the luckiest moment of my life.

"How 'bout I just do this?" Marissa said, her fist popping out of nowhere and hitting Louise squarely across the cheek. I smiled. Marissa wasn't a punching type of girl, but she'll go past her limits when someone really pisses her off.

The Flame reached over to hit her when he realized that Louise had just been told, but I kicked him with my working leg, which was luckily my right. I probably wouldn't be able to stand up, but I was fighting on the ground just fine.

Gwen was helping Heather with Casey, who was holding on suprisingly well. That left Derek, who glared as he saw his two comrades lying on the pavement.

Marissa barely blinked as she delivered a kick to his gut.

Man, this girl was turning more and more into a ninja every second.

She swiftly kicked Louise back onto the ground when she started to get up. I gave her the best high-five you can give when you're lying in a parking lot ground shot by a crazy Juvenile Delinquent.

"Marissa, catch!" Billy shouted to her as he threw the gun over. It landed right at my feet, and I picked it up carefully. Suddenly, I felt really dangerous. Dangerous and high. This wasn't good. I gave it to Marissa. It was supposed to be for her, anyway.

Marissa quickly ran to the car and pulled a roll of duct tape out of her medical bag. I kicked the Flame down swiftly as he stood up, and helped Marissa tie their hands up. They struggled, alright, but everytime they tried to stand up and get away, Marissa would point the gun at them.

She was enjoying her newfound weapon _waaayy _too much.

Once they were tied up, Marissa suggested that we tape them to the car. I agreed, a Cheshire cat grin spreading onto my face. Everytime one of them struggled, or tried to get away, Marissa would point the gun at them again. I knew she would never actually _shoot_, but the goons went up against the car anyway. The one who holds the gun is the one who wears the pants.

Marissa helped Casey with Heather and Gwen, who were fighting like, well, _girls_. He managed to hold them off, but when the Marissa the killer stepped in, she easily helped Casey take them out.

I crawled over, dragging my stupid shot leg behind me. I helped them duct tape the two together, and finished with a nice piece on Heather's mouth. Just the way it should be.

Billy was still on the Hulk's back, barely holding him back from the rest of the fight. Casey ran over and together they took him out swiftly with a kick in the gut and one right below.

I couldn't drag my leg out that far, so Marissa went over by herself with the duct tape to help the guys tape them up.

By now, Heather was glaring at me. If looks could kill, I would be reduced to dust by now. But I couldn't help but smile. I mean, the girl was taped to the side of her own car. You can't get any more downgraded than that.

For a split second, my mind was almost taken off my leg.

Once the Hulk was taped up against the car with the rest of them, Marissa started taping and fixing my leg.

Then, sirens.

A police car pulled up next to us. My heart pounded. The evidence was right there. We were so busted.

Then, a fat guy stepped out. Borschead. Of course. And he brought Squeaky and the Chick.

"You couldn't have been here ten minutes earlier, could ya?"


	16. I End Up in the Hospital Again

**Okay, please, please, please forgive me. It's high school. It's all high school's fault. I'm a freshie- this is tricky business.**

**'Hope you enjoy the next chapter!**

Officer Borsch. He's hot n' cold, but most of the time he can be just plain dumb.

Example numero uno: Squeaky and the Chick.

Squeaky and the Chick are basically the most incompotent police officers on the face of the earth. They act like they're real hotshots, but they can hardly drive straight. After all these years, I never even figured out what their real names were.

Whatever. Even if I do find out, they'll always be Squeaky and the Chick in my mind.

They were an odd pack, those police officers. Like one of those circus shows you would see in Vegas.

Ugh, don't remind me of Vegas.

After my words, Officer Borsch just stood there, pretending to be all condescending and whatnot. He raised his eyebrows in an arch that made his face look really fat. I stiffled a giggle.

"So... are you gonna lock 'em up or what, Sergeant?" I said, my voice on the edge of mocking.

"Hold it, Samantha," he answered, still holding the "I'm an adult, you stupid teenager" thing up. "I have backup coming in a few minutes," he finished.

I breathed a sigh of relief. It was a good thing that this little weird trio had backup. We were sure to be doomed, especially when Heather got free of the duct tape. I looked over at her. Her face was puffy and red, and she was struggling awfully hard against the silver wrappings.

Thankfully breaking the awkward pause that had formed, the backup came in. And just by the car, you can tell this is no Squeaky and the Chick. Their car is much nicer than Officer Borsch's with the chipping paint and botched-up seats. No. These guys are top-notch, with sleek Mercedes Benzes and black uniforms. They don't wear sunglasses like the creeps who tried to pry me out of the car, but they look tough and muscular enough anyway.

"Why aren't they looked up?" the most guy muscular asks, getting straight to business.

"They... they are. They're against the car," Officer Borsch sputters out. Obviously, he starting to feel much smaller in the presence of the guy's two-hundred pounds of muscle. As compared to Officer Borsch's two-hundred pounds of fat and doughnuts.

The man puffs. "Not those, _those_!" he points at Marissa, Casey, Billy and I.

"Wai wai wait. US?" I blurted out, furious with this new guy. "_We're _the ones who did all the dirty work. _We're _the ones who got attacked while you guys cruised on over here, taking your sweet time!"

But the man in the black uniform completely ignores me. He just motions to the rest of the officers in the black uniforms. They walk over to us, not smiling, their eyes trained on us.

"Put your hands up kids and this will all be much easier," Mr. Muscles says without looking at either of us. He's jotting down in a little notepad lined in black leather with a pen that probably cost more than all of the clothes I owned combined.

I sputter out half-formed "but"s and "we're innocent"s and "get your hands off me"s as one of the guys wrenches my hands in front of me, forcing my body up from the ground. Pain shoots through my side, and I let out a screech that I hardly recognize as my own.

"She was shot, cut her some slack!" Casey cries out in protest.

Mr. Muscles is still looking at his notepad like it's the most interesting thing in the world. "We can't press charges until the suspects and the suspected victims are in custody." My face heats up. The guy's not even trying to be gentle. Little red stains start to seep through the side of my jeans. The guy notices it, but he's so focused on making sure I'm not getting away. _Well, buddy, it doesn't look like I'll be going anywhere. Now will you cut me some slack and at least acknowledge that I'm having issues, _I thought to myself. Then I looked at the red stain and added, _Not of the female variety? _But my thoughts didn't reach him through space. All he did was clamp metal handcuffs over my wrists. It's weird having it happen to you instead of watching it. It feels foreign and that makes me mad.

The rest of the officers do the same to Casey, Billy and Marissa. Heather's practically singing behind her duct taped mouth, eyes tearing with happiness. One of the Muscle guys went over to her and tore the tape off her mouth. Heather winced, but she's so overcome by happiness that the tape being ripped off doesn't even matter to her.

"What's your name?" the guy asks in a gruff voice that reminds me of a cranky old man's.

But Heather pretends not to hear him. "Take that, Keyes. I told you I would get you back! I told you! And I did. And don't worry. Soon you'll be dead-"

Her voice is cut off my a smack across her face.

It takes me a few moments to realize that it had been executed by my hands. After pushing away the officer, I had smacked both of my handcuffed arms in a majestic twirl into her face. My hands sure were burning, and so was my side, and I had given the officers incriminating evidence to why I probably was a killer, but the look on her face was priceless and worth it. But I still couldn't believe that Heather would threaten me in front of the officers. She probably figured that she's going to jail, so might as well go out with a bang. It didn't matter to me. I just wanted her out of my sight.

Yes, my side was burning with this pain that I can't even describe. Yes, I was a total moron.

But the snarl on Heather's face was somewhat worth it.

Somewhat.

And I say somewhat because now a million guys were hopping on me like starving dogs onto a piece of marinated steak, and my arms were wrenched around behind my back, and I was thrown into a police van that had somehow appeared out of nowhere.

Casey and Billy and Marissa were thrown in as well.

"This is unconstitional! We are Americans and we demand rights!" Billy yelped.

"Just shut up and get in the car, kid," one of the police idiots shoots back. But Billy would not budge, and the police idiot has to sort of shove him inside. Billy lands in, and tries to run out, but the guy shuts the door and pretty soon it's just us, in the back of some creepy van, probably going to jail.

Just to make sure that we suffer enough, the police idiots decide to give us some, er, _delightful_ company.

Thankfully, it's not Heather who sidles in. It's Officer Borsch. And he doesn't exactly sidle in, he just sort of wedges and _plops_ in.

I'm halfway about to charge, when Officer Borsch buts in, "Kids, now before you start bursting accusations, let me clairify that I saved you guys," he pointed out.

"Saved us? If I remember correctly, _we _were the ones who tied those world-class morons to the van. _You're _the one who ruined everything!" I snarl. I couldn't help it. I was just so fired up... and angry. Even my own anger was starting to scare me.

"Hey! We're going to the hospital first. If I wasn't here, you would never be able to get that gun wound treated. Besides, _I _just cleared _your _name. They only need to take you into custody because you still need to be questioned. But after that, you won't be able to do anything but thank me," he said, a little too arrogantly for my taste.

"But-"

"Just... what do you kids say these days? Just chill? Okay, Samantha. Just chill," he said pathetically.

But still, I relaxed my shoulders a little. He was right. Everything would turn out okay. At least I hoped so.

But I wasn't going to let that on. I glared at him once, shrugged, then just sort of sat there for a little while.

Before I knew it, I was drifting off, my head laying on Casey's shoulders.

.

I woke up with a start. My ears were burning... what was that horrible sound?

It was Heather.

She was there, and she was jeering. Saying my name over and over, in the voice that I had come to hate so much.

But where were her handcuffs? And where were mine?

I was still in the van, but the doors were wide open. Where was Casey? Marissa? Billy?

Heather was still saying my name. She started running, then running, saying "na, na, na, na, na" like a second grader would. So Heather.

I watched, still deep in thought as her figure grew smaller and smaller. Then I woke up, really woke up, and realized I had to get her.

I tried to stand up. But my legs weren't working. They wouldn't even move! I willed them to move, but they just stood there, dangling and useless.

"Sammy!" someone shouted abruptly. It was a familiar voice. Where did I know it from? I tried to place it, but everything was so foggy, so unreal...

"Sammy! Wake up!" the person repeated. My eyes opened, this time for real. I let my breath go when I realized that it had been a dream. "Sammy!" I heard again.

Casey. It was just Casey. He was trying to shake me awake, which was pretty hard, considering his hands were bound together by those stupid handcuffs.

I raised my hands to rub my eyes. My wrists tightened as the chains dug into the bones of my wrist. With surprise, my eyes opened wide and I hit my hands uselessly against the seat next to me. It didn't take the chains off, but it sure felt good.

"Where are we?" I said groggily. I was _not _a waking up person. Especially when my whole life felt like a nightmare sometimes.

"Hospital. They're coming around with a stretcher for you," he informed me, patting my thigh awkwardly because of the handcuffs.

"What?" I exclaimed. "Not a stretcher. Not the hospital! Heather! She ran away!" I cried. My head was pounding, I felt like I was on the laughing gas they gave you at the dentist's.

"It's okay- Heather's still in custody. You're not feeling well. Just get some sleep, and let them take care of you," Casey said in a calming voice.

Just his voice convinced me. I didn't fight as they loaded me on a stretcher. All of my energy had been sucked out with a straw.

The last thing I saw was Casey's face as I got out of the van.

.

Tubes. IVs. A huge bandage on my waist. It was also familiar, but hauntingly strange.

Then, Casey. Marissa. Billy.

"I told you not to wake her up!" Marissa hissed.

"Sorry! I didn't do anything?" Billy protested.

"You call knocking down a glass of orange juice, a flower display _and _the lampshade 'not doing anything'?" Marissa screeched.

"But-"

"Ugh! Just help me clean this up!"

I became vaguely aware of them sweeping stuff up uselessly with their hands. Casey walked up to me.

"How are you?"

"Good," I answered, my lips as slippery as ice.

"Are you going to tell her?" Marissa piped up.

Casey shifted uncomfortably. "No, it will be fine."

I sat up a little. "What? What will be fine?" I slurred, sounding like a drunken person.

"Just tell her Casey. If you think it will be 'fine'," Marissa said, a tone of mocking in her voice.

Casey sighed. "It's Heather. She ran away."


	17. I Choose Between Death and Death

Even though I was pretty much using only 10% of the full capacity of my brain right now, and even though I still wasn't even sure what was going on, Heather's disappearance registered quickly. Very quickly.

"WHAT? No!" I wailed. It still came out slurred, and I think one of my eyes hadn't even opened yet. I must've looked pretty weird.

But Casey didn't seem to mind. "I'm sorry, Sammy. I would go after her, except we're... we're..." His voice trailed off.

"We're pretty much trapped here. They won't let us out," Marissa finished.

I turned my head awkwardly towards the door. There were two guys in black stationed outside. Of course.

"What? I need to get out of here!" I said, my voice slowly coming back.

"They've already sent people after her. She hasn't gone very far. Officer Borsch just told me that they caught her trying to steal a car at the end of Broadway," Casey assured me.

"She's tricky. She'll be out of here soon," I pointed out.

"Don't, Sammy," he said firmly. "You need to rest. Please."

"But-"

"No buts," he interrupted. "Please. We'll be here. It will be okay," he said.

I stopped myself before I could complain again. "Okay," I said simply. There was no winning.

"You're giving up that easy?" Casey said, raising an eyebrow.

I shrugged, or more like attempted to shrug. "I guess."

He smiled, obviously pleased with himself. "That was easier than I thought it would be," he said, but I could tell he was still suspicious.

"Are you complaining?"

"No way," he said. "I'm just glad you're okay."

I smiled. He leaned forward and kissed me.

Then, I closed my eyes softly. Looking out into the darkening night I said, "We should get some sleep. It's been a long day."

"You're right," he said. Marissa sat on top of Billy's lap, fast asleep, in the only chair in the room. Casey awkwardly tried to lay on the ground.

I laughed. "Come up here," I said.

He smiled back and joined me on the hospital bed. I wrapped my fingers around his, and before I could stop myself, I fell asleep.

.

I woke up to a full moon, the light pouring through the small window on the wall. Someone had turned off the lights. I glanced at the clock. 2:00 a.m.

Casey's arm was still around mine. I slowly and carefully pulled my hand away. He moved slightly, which made my heart beat faster, but before I knew it, he was back asleep.

As carefully as I could, I opened the door, making sure not to make any noises.

Then, my heart really stopped.

The guard was just outside the door.

I had completely forgotten about the guard. But it was too late. The door was already ajar by my foolish little hands, and the guard was standing right there.

But he didn't move at all. Cautiously, I peeked my head out a little more. When I realized that the guy seemed to not be moving, I crept out, willing my feet to be light as feathers.

My heart was pounding like crazy by now, but it someone went to a regular pace when I saw that the guard was standing with his arms folded over his chest, but his eyes were closed. He was asleep, but he could surely wake up any second now.

The lights were dimmed pleasantly. No one was in sight, except for Sleeping Beauty here. I crept out as carefully as I could.

I freeze as he shifts a little.

His eyes flutter open, and that's when I realized that I am screwed. But then, seeing nothing directly in front of him (and obviously oblivious to my frozen from just to his left), his eyes slowly closed.

I crept out of there as fast as I could, not stopping to check if the guard had woken up. But when I get to the end of the hall, I do one quick glance and see that Sleeping Beauty has gone back to sleep.

I ended up in the patient's reception room, where I spot my backpack. Without hesitation, I put it on my back. Then, I descended slowly down the stairs, freezing in terror whenever I came across a night shift hospital worker or the occasional janitor.

Whenever I saw one of them, I would quickly duck behind the wall, an idle bed in the middle of the road- anything. Apparently, luck was on my side that night because before I knew it, I was safely outside the hospital doors. Or as safe as you can be when you're a wanted criminal on the hit list of a psychotic redhead with a lot more crazy than the normal person should have.

Santa Martina is actually pretty creepy at night. Any night really- it doesn't have to be Friday or Saturday nights. Santa Martinians are the kind of people who like to loiter, often with a drink in hand. I think back to all Grams has taught me about self-defense, but really, how much can you learn from an old lady who's favorite activity is watching Desperate Housewives while, amazingly, knitting as well. This all would've been easier if I'd grown up with a dad. Maybe once in a while, I'd actually know how to fight, not just kick and hit like a maniac.

I try and push these thoughts out of my head as I turn right on Carson Road and head down Broadway.

.

After an hour or so, the whole thing seems hopeless and one of the stupidest things I've ever done. I have to rest a lot, because all of my injuries still hurt a little bit. I've changed into my regular clothes- I'm pretty sure people would get suspcious when they see a girl with a hospital gown on, running through town with seemingly no purpose.

I've checked everywhere- Broadway, Heather's house, the places Heather's gang liked to hang out, everywhere! And I don't see a crazy maniac. She's probably halfway across the country by now, with her potency and cleverness.

I pass the same routes again and again. But all I see are some creepy men (don't make eye contact, look away!) and a random bum laying down on the bench.

I sigh a little, then walk past these new people. Then, I flip around in realization.

A flash of orange... the bum's hair is a fiery red.

My first thought is wow, Heather's really stooping down. I never thought she would resort to disguising as a hobo. But with one quick look, I recognize the wild mess of flaming orange and red curls, tucked away in her hood but slowly peeking out, like sunrise.

It takes me a while to figure out what I was going to do. Finding her was one thing- approaching her was a completely different level. A life-threatening, kill-me-now level.

I consider calling Officer Borsch, but one quick check in my backpack shows that they've obviously confiscated my phone. I huff in frustration.

So I sort of creep up to her, not really knowing what I was going to do, but figuring that was just going to, you know, _assess the situation_. Faster than I can blink, she's got a knife whipped out, and at my throat.

She's still sort of waking up, I can tell by the way her eyes flutter open as she takes in her captor. She grins hugely when she realizes that yep, it's me.

"I've been expecting you to do something like this. What'd you do? Sneak out of the hospital?" she snickers.

I consider kicking her, but her knife's at my throat. Do I really have a choice but to talk my way out?

The strange men disappear as soon as they realize that a fight's going on. So I'm on my own.

"It's a little classier than darting out of custody, if you ask me," I say, bringing a snarl on her lips.

"Watch it, loser. You're probably forgetting who's holding the knife right now," she warns, grazing the skin of my throat lightly. Two drops of blood drip out, anyway. It hurts, but I've felt much worse. This was just like a nasty papercut.

I look down, not moving. "Don't worry, Heather. I'm sure they'll have knives in jail. Plastic knives, sure, but knives are knives, right?" I say. It's a lousy comeback, but it's enough to distract her from the rest of my body. While she contemplates my question, I smack her hard across the side with my foot, getting away, but her knife manages to graze my chin a little. Blood drips onto the pavement.

She gets up faster than I expect her to, and delivers a blow to my side. I topple on the pavement. She darts away, seeing crowds of people on both sides of the street. She has no choice but to go up.

With a constipated yet furious look on her face, she hops over the gate to the outdoor fire escape and starts making a descent up. I'm on my feet, quick, with an equally constipated look on my face as I follow her in pursuit. I'm climbing, climbing and climbing, my heart pounding so hard I was surprised it didn't come straight out of my chest.

But when I get up on the roof, she's nowhere to be seen. I take in the surroundings, dread coming through me. This was the same rooftop where I had accidently murdered Liz Bedford. The same rooftop where Heather-

I have barely enough time to finish my thoughts, because Heather pops outta nowhere, screaming a scream that reminds me of barbaric warriors. She's on my back, and man, that girl is heavy. She pounds on it with her fists. I'm glad to see that she's lost her knife somehwhere between the ground and this rooftop, but that doesn't stop her from pounding the snot out of me. Or at least trying. I put up a pretty good fight, but the girl's on my back, obviously ready to kill.

"Sammy!" I hear someone shout from the other side of the roof. It's not Heather; she's on my back, growling cuss words that make my skin crawl and some that I think haven't even been invented yet. I manage to twist my head a little to see my visitor.

It's Casey.

"Heather! Get off her back!" he shouts, running quickly to us. Thank goodness he gets six-minute mile times. I didn't think I could hold on any longer. Not with my head pounding like there were little drummer boys inside my brains.

But Heather sees him charging, and she gets off my back and kicks me hard. I stumble a little, and just when I think I'm going to be okay, the ground disappears from under me.

I'm on the edge of the roof, falling in what feels like slow motion. Thankfully, I've grabbed Heather's arm, tight. She keeps me up.

"Let... go... of... ME!" she grunts. My arm feels like it's being ripped out of its socket, and I'm pretty sure it's the same for her. I try to put my foot on something, anything, but the buidlings are about as smooth as silk.

"Sammy!" Casey shouts again. He reaches out to grab my other hand, to pull me up. Heather kicks him as hard as she can without falling off the roof. It's has no effect on him whatsoever. Heather kicks a little harder, and like me, she comes toppling down.

Like me, Heather's first instinct is to grab whatever she can before she falls. She grabs Casey's arm, naturally. He groans because now not only is he holding Heather, but me too.

Casey's going to fall. He can't hold both of us up any longer. Heather's kicking like there's no tomorrow at my head. Stay up here, I get a concussion and we all fall down. We all die. I relish a little at the thought of Heather dying, too, but my heart practically stops at the thought of Casey. Dead. All because of me.

But if I, er, _go _down there, Casey can be saved, Heather'll go to jail... and... I don't even want to think about what happens to me. Because either way, I'm falling. There's no other choice.

I take one last look at Casey's face. His beautiful face. I want it to be the last thing I see.

I mouth "I love you" to Casey. His face shows shock that I've never seen before.

My arm's burning, anyway. I don't know how much longer I can hold on.

Not long, because my sweaty fingers let go of my grip on Heather's arm.

And suddenly, I'm falling.

**A painful cliffhanger, I know. I'm not even sure if I like this piece- if I end up hating it then I might change it. Tell me what you guys think. **

**I'm sort of into the life-or-death situation thing right now. I'm currently obssesed to the point that no obssessive person should ever be with The Hunger Games trilogy. Have you guys ever read them before? They're amazing! Go pick the first book up if you've never read them before- you won't regret it, I promise!**

**And remember to review this chapter. Tell me what you think. I need to know for the next one!**


	18. Chocolate Ice Cream and Dorito

**Well. This week has been crazy. Homecoming! In fact, I went to the game tonight. The dance is tomorrow, and I can hardly wait!**

**I have also been facing the case of writer's block. I asked my sister the question "what would you do if you were falling off the edge of the building?" to which she answered "I would punch you in the face." So supportive, I know. **

**So I faced the ending on my own, and here it goes.**

Falling is a weird sensation. It's a mixture of two things. I found myself looking in awe at how the surroundings blurred together in a kaleidoscope of color. And then there's the feeling of knowing that "this is gonna hurt!"

I fell into the brush of the scrawny trees that Santa Martina had planted recently to "strengthen the ambiance of the city". Didn't do much if you ask me. The trees were dark and not happy at all. Just another reason for outsiders to judge us by the looks of our city.

I'd always pictured death differently. Old, with eyes that were as new as birth. Maybe I woud die catching a black market crook and have a heroic legacy. I'd never pictured myself falling off the side of a building. It was just too, I don't know, weird. And it would hurt. A lot. I would be smashed into pieces across the cement.

The gray green leaves of the tree brushed my skin, scratching it in the softest way possible. Torture. It reminded me of the way they used calm dogs down before they blew them to pieces with a gun. This was no different.

This was it. I was getting awfully close to the cement. I closed my eyes, relaxed my shoulders as best I could and tried to clear my head.

My body slammed down with a jolt. _That was painless, _I thought. It was over faster than I thought it would be. I smiled to myself. _Wait a second, _I thought. _How come I can still smile? How can I still-_

I flexed my fingers all around. Still intact. I wiggled my toes, twirled my shoulds around a little.

I opened my eyes slowly to see Marissa and Billy standing with Officer Borsch, Mr. Rolling Turd the Third in their wake.

"Hey guys," I said as nonchalantly as I could. Well, as nonchlantly as you can when you've escaped death for the umpteenth time in less than 48 hours.

They stared at me, their mouths wide as the Pacific Ocean. I glanced up. My backpack had gotten caught on one of the flimsy branches of the tree. The branch looked like it was made of potato chips, and before I knew it, I was dropping again.

This drop wasn't a quarter as bad as the last one. It was so quick, and I managed to land on my feet. My head pounded a little at catching on the tree, but other than that, I was in pretty good condition.

The whole landing-on-my-feet thing made me look a lot more impressive than I really was. "So? Heather's up there. Are you going to get her?" I asked Officer Borsch that bordered on bratty, but hey, this guy deserved it.

"Uh... yeah, of course I'm ready," he sputtered out.

"Squeaky and the Chick stole his car and ran off to Italy," Marissa explained, as if were the mostly normal thing in the world.

So Squeaky and the Chick were shady! I knew it. Officer Borsch just. Doesn't. Listen.

He quickly murmured something into his cell phone and dashed towards the fire escape to get up on the roof.

Once he was out of view, Marissa burst out, "Sammy! Are you okay?"

I nodded shakily. "I'm okay. But I left Heather and Casey hanging up on the building," I admitted. I would've been up there, but I was starting to feel a little dizzy, so I wobbled over to the edge of the sidewalk and sat down on the curb.

Just like a lot of important things, I vaguely remembered what happened next. A gazillion or so cars came barreling through, with the sirens on and everything. Somehow, Officer Borsch managed to drag Heather down in cuffs, and I had to give him props for that- getting that witch of a teenager down seemed like the greatest challenge on earth. Casey's arm was sore with pain, but was otherwise okay. I was dragged to the hospital... again. But this time I didn't mind. Everything was starting to turn really pale, and, well, maybe it was best if I'd rested.

The next time I met Heather was in court. Yes, the actual courthouse. At first it was intimidating, but I decided to think of the scary, makes you want to pee in your pants judge as someone wearing a weird black bathrobe wielding a shortened croquet mallet.

And who else would be my lawyer than the ever-reliable Hudson Grahms? It turned out that back in his "young days", Hudson studied in law school until he decided to drop out. But he had gotten his degree, so technically he was still a legal lawyer.

He rocked. It was great having him in court, and it was great seeing him defend my innocence. I got away with minimum sentence, and after the hearing, about twenty microphones from local newstations, CNN- thrust their microphones into my face, asking Hudson if he wanted to become a full-time lawyer.

"Well, I got to make sure this one right here-" he pointed to me. "Doesn't get in anymore trouble, don't I?" he said, a mischevious grin on his face. I just laughed. I was so happy, so deliriously happy.

And Heather? Well, not so happy. She went to Juvie, this time for real. She wears an anklet now that alerts a whole squadron of officials if she steps one foot outside of the route from schol to Juvie. It's a real fasion statement, let me tell you. She loves it so much that she can't stop touching it... trying to rip it off, squeezing it in a way that she thinks will help it pop off, all that sort of thing. See? Obviously, it's her new BFF.

As for _my _BFF, well, after a little rant on how stupid I was, blah, blah, blah, Marissa finally came through and we had a reunion with Holly and Dot, who I had missed more than I thought.

I'm sure Heather also had a nice reunion with her lovely friends Derek, Gwen, FireFace, FatGuy and CrazyKnifeGirl in Juvie, too. Luckily, the other three hooligans Heather managed to recruit are too old to go to school. Sure, I can duct tape them to a car, but there's no way I was dealing with them breathing down my neck every weekday morning.

So it's just Gwen and Heather, who more than 99% of the school is scared of. They and some other girls go through the school, wrecking havoc anyone who gets in their way and- gasp- dares to utter their names. Heather saves special treatment for me- a sneer, a bad word or so and a finger right in my eyes. Just like I've been doing for the past 5 years, I've learned not to let it bother me. There are much worse things then Heather Acosta.

And then there's her brother, a.k.a. the best guy on the planet. My last night in the hospital, he surprised me by visiting with chocolate ice cream and my very own cat, Dorito.

"How'd you get that little monster through?" I smiled.

"What little monster," he said, playing innocent. "It's just Dorito."

I grabbed the little furry ball in my hands and pressed my nose into his soft coat. "I've missed him so much," I sighed.

Casey laughed. "Yeah, well. He begged and begged me to visit you. He wanted to tell you that he loves you," he half-smiled, his eyes looking into mine. He flicked the radio on the side table on, and soft music flowed through the room.

"Well, I love him, too," I said. "A lot." Maybe it was just me, but I didn't think we were talking about Dorito anymore.

I peered at the chocolate ice cream. "Chocolate," I murmured idiotically. "Chocolate always reminded me of something," I hinted.

He smiled again. "Mmhm. What's that?"

"Your eyes. They're like the freshly made milk chocolate they have at the Ghiradelli Chocolate Factory. I used to think they were like the chocolate you get in those foil wrapped chocolate eggs at Easter," I said. "I loved those," I added quietly.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." I pressed my palm against Dorito's skin and stroked the velvety soft fur underneath.

Before I could react, Casey's lips pressed onto mine sweetly, with a light touch. I melted into the kiss, closing my eyes softly.

When we finally pulled apart I said, "What was that for?" Not that I was complaining.

"Dorito was getting too much attention," he fake-complained, a content grin on his face.

My fingers grazed the newspaper the nurses had left on my side table. "Did you read the paper yet?" Casey asked.

"No," I said quietly. "Why?"

"Your story's in. They're calling you the modern-day Nancy Drew," he smirked, irony in his voice.

"You know perfectly well that Nancy Drew is my number one pet peeve," I said indignantly.

He wrapped his arms around me. "Yeah. I know. I just like watching you get ticked off about it,"

I scowled slightly, but like always, he was just kidding. "I don't want a title. I'm just Sammy. Sammy, forever and always, whether you like it or not. For better or worse. In sickness and in health. To love and to cherish. Till death do us part. Or the Lord-"

"Woah there, don't need to say the whole marriage vows," he said, laughing a little.

I sighed. "I know. Just trying to get my point across."

"Alright, Sammy," he said. "Just Sammy," he added, smiling, then leaning down to kiss me again.

And we lay there, silent, thinking. Smiling together as Darren Cole and the Troublemaker's "Waitin' For Rain to Fall" drifted through the night.

**Yup, that's the end. Yay! Review, please. Special thanks to N3WYORKD3VIL, BammItsStephiee, cammycrazygirl, The Wright Kid, treehuggingcookiemonster, storylover8 and Joy for their awesome reviews!**

**Let me know what you think- your reviews were the life of this story!**


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